#my highlights and shades r slowly getting better

[s-fellows-art]

Simplified tips on how to improve your art.

.putting under cut because its long but thats cause i explain these and not just list stuff. 

1)  Flip/mirror  your canvas when working. - it allows you see anatomy and other errors you may overlook. 

2) before uploading look at the image on a different screen or the next day. - this give you time away from it, and as tempting as it is to upload as soon as your done, if you wait  you will see stuff you can improve on and be able to look at it with “ fresh” eyes. 

3) Stop shading with black or grey scale colors- shading with inly these colors make the imAge look muddy, if you shade with a color that is a darker hue of the same color your adding shading to it one in the same tempters ( warm= R Y O cool = B G I V  on the Rainbow ) you get more vibrant art and you don’t muddy what your working on. 

4) Learn to grey scale BEFORE coloring as a draft p2- learning how to shade in black and white can help you identify lighting points and details. When digital painting simplifying something out to a grey scale can help you keep track of what your doing. 

5) Use the tools you have access too- References to learn anatomy , taking time to learn amniotomy will help you a lot in the long term, but doing everything off the top of your head your bond to get something wrong early on, or even later on in art.  Use the sharpen tool around highlights if your program offers it. It saves time. Also play with your filters and line art colors. These will ad detail to your work and takes less time. If you mess around with the brushes in your program and stuff before starting it will help you later on. Its not cheating professionals use it all the time. 

6) practice drawing random stuff- it teaches you the shapes and trains your hand ti make the strokes/motions needed for basically everything. Art studies can be very helpful. Even if it feels stupid drawing 500 eyes on a note pad, it helps. 

7) Simple is good, complex is chaos- over complex art is hard to look at because your not sure what to focus on so the areas you want the eye to go to is where you should focus your details rather then make every single little thing detailed. Another way to do this is to brighten the colors where you want the eye to go at first glance in an image, but make the other areas muted in color, or blurred slightly.  

8) Don’t be afraid to look up tutorials and take breaks if you get stuck - I personally only learned how to shade faces from watching makeup tutorials. And there is nothing shameful in not knowing how to do something and needing to look it up or ask, its how you learn you can just power you way through it all the time, and somethings your wasting your time if you do for something not worth it in the end run. Also the act if stepping back and away to go do something else is sometimes all you need, sometimes looking at the same file over and over again can be mentally exhausting. Take a break. Drink some water. Stretch your wrists. Look away from it for a while then come back. 

9) Stretch your wrists before working- save your self years if pain trust me. I regret not doing this. Also draw from your shoulder not your wrist unless detailing, less stress on your arm and more precision. 

10) Use different line thicknesses - i find using thicker lines for areas that touch the outer parts of your drawing or more important areas, and using thinner for detailing adds a bit of detail and quality to your work even if the line art isn’t clean. Inner face  parts (other then the top bracket of the eyes), lines between fingers, lines marking clothing folds, and things like that should be done in thinner lines then eyebrows and what not. 

Next two some will role your eyes at but honestly makes a huge difference, even if you got to force it at first. Its hard to break a bad habit.

11) don’t look for flaws in your work, look for what you like about it,- if your constantly pointing out what is wring with what you are doing your not gonna go any where, bare minimum go “ okay im not too happy about this, lets see how we can improve it” instead if “ this looks like garbage I hate it”. If you stay in the mentality of I don’t like this , your never gonna be happy with what your making or improve because subconsciously your telling you self you can’t. This slight change in mind set of trying to find at least one thing you like will make a big difference in the long run because slowly you will be moving towards finding a style your comfortable with and going from there, you will be finding things you

12) don’t compare you self to other artist- its one thing to want to take influence in your fave artist, its another to constantly out yourself down because your not like them. Everyone art started as shit. Everyone. We all were that crappy 1 year old can barely hold a pen person at one point. like learning how to read and write or ride a bike....  No one starts as a perfect artists, its something you learn, so comparing your self to people around you is not gonna help you improve and putting yourself down just because your not perfect yet. Even if its something as little as “im happy I finally finished this” is better then “I wish i was like _”. You are slowly moving towards a goal, some people just move quicker then others because they learn different techniques, instead if putting energy into hating everything you do why not try to learn how the people you like the art of got there by learning some techniques your self? 

13) Ignore the notes enjoy the journey-  Regardless , you making art is amazing in itself . Its something only you have made. There may be other things like it but its not like how you did. Your unique and honestly ignore the notes, if your constantly pushing yourself based off of numbers, your gonna burn your self out and give your self impossible expectations to try to complete. Everyone has different tasted and are not always gonna like what you do the same way, if at all, there is nothing wrong with what you made you simply just can’ please everyone and its not your job to. The notes are a bonus, not a goal, you don’t have to try to compete for them the only person you have to create for for is you. Do what ever the hell you want and if people like it, great, if they don’, then they like a different cup of tea then yours, don’s make it bad tea.  Edit 1 as i thought of more : also the reason your sketch looks better then your line art is because your line art is too neet. If you use difrent thicknesses in lines (thicker for outter areas and important areas) and thinner for areas with more movment (bottom crese of eyes or outline of area around puple inner part of mouth clothing inner parts or what ever u feelis needed) it will look better because it will show your brush strokes which is what makes your sketch look good. -You can also add a 3d effect woth the red and blue outlines on areas that are not the central focus of the peice. Blurring has the same sort of effect to where it forces the eye onto the clearer area if the photo and makes it more visually intresting. Having this effect everywhere however can make stuff hard to focus on and diffcult to look at so only keep it on non focus points (most common focus point is the face so wouldnt put it there) .

Idk how helpful these will be but they made a big diff in my progress over the past year. The last bunch made a significant difference for me, though it was really hard to force myself into that mentality. And i still skip doing some of these in occasion ill admit but i hope this helps none the less. 

[nyxi-styx]

Kiss and Make-up

Fandom: Sanders Sides Ship: M/M, Prinxiety, AKA: Virgil/Roman Words: 1323 Rating: E for everyone Warnings: None... maybe insecurity? Tags: fluff, makeup, cute boyfriends, Virgil is actually really good at makeup, established Prinxiety, nons*xual physical intimacy, Characters: Virgil Sanders, Roman Sanders, briefly: Thomas Sanders, briefly: Patton Sanders, briefly: Logan sanders A/N: I know this isn’t very long, but it’s just an idea that came to me after watching Thomas get made up in Sides-inspired makeup looks. I’m a glutton for Prinxiety. Please enjoy! :) Silently, Roman watched in the mirror from the doorway as his boyfriend carefully applied his dark eye shadow for the day. Just as he was finishing up, Virgil caught Roman’s eyes in the reflection. Roman smiled warmly, but Virgil blushed and immediately looked down, washing makeup fallout from his fingers in the sink. “Um… Virgil? Raindrop… storm cloud… moonlight of my life…” The prince slowly moved closer. Virgil rolled his eyes; a string of nicknames always meant Roman was looking to get his way. He took a breath and looked up at him, shaking excess water from his hands before drying them on a hand towel. “What do you want this time?” “Oh, nothing, it’s just…” Roman hesitated, licking his lips. “...will you… do… makeup for me?” Dumbfounded, Virgil stared at his boyfriend for a moment before blinking slowly. “You want me to do your makeup? Even though you’ve seen how I do mine?” “Well, yes. I… it’s… I don’t expect us to match. But I think you can do something wonderful.” Virgil studied Roman’s face for a moment, still in disbelief. He sighed and looked down at his one makeup brush and little pot of loose black eye shadow. “Okay,” he conceded. “But I need more to work with than this.” He waved his hand and the single brush and eye shadow disappeared. Instead, the sink was covered with a large selection of brushes and cosmetics. Roman gasped gleefully and even squealed with delight. Virgil rolled his eyes again but smiled in spite of himself, keeping it carefully hidden from his boyfriend. “Um…” He reached over and lowered the lid on the toilet. “Here. Sit.” Obediently, Roman sat, perching on top of the closed toilet and looking far more regal than anyone else ever would. His eyes wandered the goods on the sink and then back to Virgil, who was looking thoughtful. Another wave of the hand and Virgil had an elastic cloth headband. He slid it carefully over Roman’s head, slipping it down onto his forehead and then into place, pushing the prince’s soft hair back. Virgil gave him just the smallest hint of a smile as Roman looked up at him with shining, trusting eyes. It was exactly that kind of look that melted Virgil’s anxious heart and made him fall for the prince to begin with. “I have to touch your face a lot… obviously… so… just… promise you’ll be still,” Virgil instructed as he picked up a small bottle of face moisturizer. He warmed the small dollop of moisturizer, working it lightly between his hands before applying it to Roman’s face. Roman closed his eyes and let out a content sigh that caught Virgil off guard. He didn’t say anything and just moved on to applying primer once the moisturizer was properly worked in. With that dry, he started carefully applying foundation to the prince’s face. The color was a perfect match though it was a bit dark against Virgil’s own skin. “Is it done,” Roman asked, cracking one eye open curiously. Virgil laughed softly. “No. That’s just the beginning. Just… trust me. I won’t… y’know… ruin your face. I promise.” Though, now, he was nervous. What if Roman didn’t like it when it was done? What if this was a mistake? He stepped back and forced himself to breathe. “Of course I trust you, raindrop. I wouldn’t have asked you to do this if I didn’t. And even if it’s not marvellous, I like that we’re… spending this time together. It’s… affectionate. I like this moment. No matter what.” Virgil made a grumpy sound at the word ‘affectionate’, but Roman’s words did make him feel a little better. “Thanks,” he mumbled, looking over the rest of the tools at his disposal. He decided against highlighter. Roman sparkles enough on his own. Ugh. I might vomit. Instead, he carefully patted a thin base of white eye primer onto Logan’s lids. He picked up an eye shadow palette and a small brush, but immediately put them back down. He summoned a lightweight towel and wrapped it around Roman’s shoulders to protect his nice white clothes from powder fallout. It was thoughtful and it made Roman smile, but he quickly relaxed his face again so that his boyfriend could continue. With another grounding, calming breath, Virgil picked the makeup palette back up and set to work. He worked gently but precisely and Roman was perfectly patient throughout. With the eye shadow done, Virgil gently cupped Roman’s face as he carefully applied eyeliner. “Okay… Almost finished,” he assured the prince. “Open your eyes and… try not to blink.”

Roman’s eyes fluttered open and he looked at Virgil, all the love in the world shining through. “Don’t look at me like that,” Vigil murmured. He couldn’t stand it even though he felt the same. He believed didn’t deserve it. He licked his lips and delicately applied mascara to Roman’s perfect eyelashes. He held his breath to try and control his shaking hands. Roman didn’t mind. He was just pleased with all of the physical contact. “One last step. Just uh… part your lips for me?” Roman was surprisingly obedient and Virgil cupped his face with his free hand once again. They locked eyes and Virgil felt his heart somersault. He couldn’t help the compulsion he suddenly felt and he leaned in, pressing his lips to Roman’s. He felt the prince smile into the kiss and he pulled away slowly, fighting away the blush. “S-sorry.” He cleared his throat and moved on, applying color to Roman’s perfect lips. Finally, he stepped back, waving his hand so all of the cosmetics and brushes vanished once again. “Alright, Princey. It’s...uh… it’s done. If you hate it, I can get makeup remover and it’ll be like it never happened.” Enthusiastically, Roman leapt from his seat on the toilet to take in his appearance in the mirror. His eyes were shaded vibrant red, outer corners touched with black, and lined with sparkling gold. His lips were a powerful ruby red. He slowly raised his hands to his cheeks, turning his face this way and that to take it all in. “I… look…” Virgil steeled himself for negative feedback. “I… I’m sorry. Like I said, I--” “...wonderful! I look incredible,” Roman enthused, grinning so bright it may have blinded any mere mortal. The corner of Virgil’s mouth twitched upward, only to grow into a genuine smile when Roman kissed his cheek, leaving red lip marks behind. It wasn’t that he minded, but the others couldn’t see him that way, so he raised his hand and used his hoodie sleeve to start wiping it off.

Unfortunately for Virgil, they were both summoned at that moment, rising abruptly out of the mindscape. Thinking quickly, he pulled his hoodie up to help hide the smudged red kiss mark on his cheek.

“Woah! Oh my gosh! Roman,” Thomas exclaimed in surprise as soon he laid eyes on Roman. “Romaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn,” Patton squealed until he ran out of air and choked momentarily. He cleared his throat. “Goodness me, I’m so sorry. I got over excited again. But look at you!!” He gasped and cupped his own face between his hands. “You do look amazing, Roman,” Thomas complimented, smiling at his creative side. “Thank you, but unfortunately I can take no credit. Virgil was the artist this time.” The prince gestured grandly at the nearby side who looked away from everyone, embarrassed.

“Virgil, if you’re that talented with makeup, why is your own, ummm… so…” Logan’s question trailed off as he struggled to find a word that wouldn’t sound insulting. Shrugging, Virgil looked up at Logan. “Stylistic choice. You all wouldn’t take me seriously if I wore makeup like that. And I wouldn’t make it look nearly as good as Prince Shiney over here.” He met Roman’s eyes once again and they shared a smile, hiding all of their little secrets behind it.

[chessdaze]

Since I outed myself with an ask to phoenix about an event I’ll go ahead and post something about my schedule for three wishes here. I won’t put this under read more just for visibility, so sorry ahead of time for clogging your dashes.

As a note ahead of time THESE ARE ALL SUBJECT TO CHANGE, I DO NOT GIVE ANY DATES CAUSE I’M NOT PUTTING MYSELF ON A DEADLINE. I’m doing this for my own enjoyment and hopefully, others as well but please don’t rush me. I’m sharing this just to be open about my plans and what I’m working on, and perhaps for the motivations / reminders it’ll give me - not to give anyone a reason to come at me. Okay? Okay.

Not counting small comics or misc posts of art and info or fics:

First order of business is for me to finish drawing all of Silas’ outfits and Design the Enchantress. I have Silas almost completely done sketch wise, so I’ll work on the sketches of the Enchantress next and then line/color and post those. I might also do some side character designs as I have a few that might show up here and there (but they’ll just be like the ghosts in canon, occasionally there and then you don’t see them for fucking ever). I WOULD do outfit design sheets for EVERY character BUT....that would be a lot of work. I might end up just making polls like ‘who would you like to see outfit references for’ and then work on them at my own pace. That way you guys get what you want first and I still have fun designing everyone’s outfits regardless.

Second order of business is my event I mentioned in the ask to phoenix, BATTLE OF THE BANDS! I accidentally went full game dev on the documentation (because if I’m not gonna use all that documentation homework I did for that game art degree NOW then when am I going to??), but I’m actually pretty far along planning wise since I’ve been working on it when I needed break from art things. Right now I have about half of the main story of the event outlined. My order of doing things is Summary of Story > Outline of items / mini games > Figure out what characters were going to be in the event > Main story outline > Card Story outlines > Finalized story and Card Stories > Art Assets. So it might take awhile before I post any art for it. But if people show interest in me posting some of the in progress things feel free to send me an ask every now and then and I can update you! Because of the ask and permission given, Evonie from @phoenix-manga ‘s Diamond Crown Academy will make an appearance in the event, as well as Three Wishes OCs made by @tsukikoayanosuke (Bridgette) and @missnekonyan (Donelle) as the clubs their characters are involved with the event overall. I’m really excited I got permission from all of them to be able to reference their characters! They won’t be big rolls but I’m happy to give all of these creators spotlight by adding in their characters.

Third thing, Regular Card Stories and Art for Cards! I am already making documentation to have these noted down, Will probably do them one dorm at a time but I do have a few ideas already. I will say that my R-SSR order of the cards is a bit different from canon. R’s are School Uniforms and PE outfits (will be slightly different depending on which PE course is taken by the student, since there’s three at three wishes), SRs  are Dorm Outfits and Fundraising outfits - as Dorm outfits are different per person i didn’t think they were special enough for SSRs but still worth some highlight, and Fundraising / Volunteering is a mandatory class at Three Wishes so that gets another SR spot. Then lastly their SSRs are their Ceremony outfits. These are also different per character but they will all have a matching color scheme so that’s why i wanted these to be the SSRs.  I also already have like four future events planned and which characters will be getting cards / what rank the cards will be for those characters! None of these events have any kind of outline yet, only general concepts and characters possibly involved, so the characters may change but I have them written down so I don’t forget and I can add to the event outlines as I find inspiration.

Maybe the fourth thing is actually designing the dang school. I SUCK at environment art, I’m not going to lie. It’s why alot of my comics up until this point has had minimal or no backgrounds at all. But one of the reasons why I’m drawing comics is to maybe get better at backgrounds cause I’m already sick of them not having one so progress I guess. But this is why this is kind of last on my list, as I definitely need the practice. If there’s a dorm or location I have listed that you would like to see art for or just described in better detail, Feel free to send me an ask!

And the thing I’m kind of working on while all of that is going on is of course, the Main Story Outline! I have all the chapter names picked and I have at least the Prologue - Second chapter bullet pointed as a first draft - I already know some places I wanna go back and change things but for now I’m just trying to get the general ideas for each chapter down. As of now there are eight chapters in total - including the prologue and the finale, so six major story chapters over all.  I’m still not sure how I want to tell this story in all honestly. Part of me REALLY REALLY REALLY wants to make these full blown comics in all honesty. I’ve been wanting to draw actual comics since I was a kid and I’m closer now than I ever have been to being able to do so. But I also know how much of a time sync that is and know that I haven’t quite grasped all the shading tools in CSP to really give it the effect I want to have - which is one of the reasons I’m working on the mini comic pages here and there so I can slowly improve - but I can’t promise anything. If nothing else, I’m semi confident in my writing skills so I will maybe end up writing it out.

As a treat TM, I’ll list the chapter titles I have down below. THESE ARE SUBJECT TO CHANGE, but I am pretty happy with them right now - they’ll only likely change if I end up changing my entire idea for the chapter or changing the order of chapters. Anyone care to give me some theories on what you think each chapter is about? :thinking:

Prologue: the start of an actor's life Chapter one, Nightingale: by the stroke of midnight Chapter two,wondrous: a queen among thieves Chapter three, diamanttobar: the wishing well Chapter four, guardian: a dragons curse Chapter five, lapinhole: tipping the golden scale Chapter six, servireu: the guest has arrived Finale: when the last petal falls

If you read this far, thank you so much and I hope you look forward to more three wishes content! <3

Also I ask that this post isn’t reblogged, not gonna come at you if you do but it’s just a to do list really lol idk why anyone would want to reblog it.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Jason Voorhees x Freddy’sDaughter!Reader || Oneshot

Title: They Cuddles; Him, Her, and her Bottle of Hypnocil. 

Notes:

‘-There was something in her, something that was… pure horror. Everything you were supposed to watch out for. Heights, fire, shards of glass, snakes. Everything that his mom tried so hard to keep him safe from.’ - John Ajvide Lindqvist.

Inspired by the above quote.

Quick Background of Reader: You’re Maggies younger (Only a little) half-sister. (You were conceived and born shortly after he killed Loretta and your mother didn’t want you so you were pawned off to him so you were living with him until he was burnt by the Springwood Parents, whereas Maggie was of course taken away) (Pretend it was years between the time he was caught and the time he was killed)

Tried to write in Jasons POV, not sure how good it is, hah. 

I miiiiiiight have some ideas for future parts of this, this was adorable and sweet.

Plot: 

Just, Jason falling in so love with the enemies daughter who is so like her father - she’s loud, she’s hurt, she makes s t u p i d jokes and then laughs way too hard at them, she’s dangerous, - but who is gentle with him and kind. (She’s basically the type of girl Pam wouldn’t approve of at first but is so honest and kind that Pam cant help but begrudgingly like her eventually XD )

Warnings: Age gap? I mean it’s not a main plot point so you could ignore it but Jason and Freddy are similar in age so you’re young enough to be Jason’s kid too- but you’re in your 30’s-40’s so its okie. Fatherly trauma (Is that the right phrase?? Hah. You know what I mean) / Nightmare on elm Street survivor trauma also. Panic attack I think? Ends in fluff ^^ 

~~~

When you stayed a night in your van at that old, abandoned camp, you certainly didn’t expect to meet Jason. I mean, you weren’t surprised by his… abnormalities -referring to the fact that he’s dead. Not his deformities, - as much as you were how cute and sweet he was. And how well you two got on, after he tried to kill you.

And you don’t blame him for that! You trespassed; you get it. If you had known he was there and he had taken ownership of the area, then you would have asked before parking there.

When Jason had found a girl hidden away, sleeping in the back of a yellow van, he certainly didn’t expect that she would soon become so important to him. She was just another trespasser acting like a hoodlum -living! In! A! Van?! – in his general vicinity and of course, he didn’t like that.

Boring chase story short; He pushed your van over and there was a chase through the forest (You’ve never run that fast in your life, jesus christ. You can still feel the wind burn on your cheeks, that one rock under your bare feet that cut you and the energy rushing through your body pushing you forward anyway) and you leapt into the lake- waiting until he came in after you. And then when he did, you just screamed random nonsense, splashing around spastically at him until you hit a nerve that sobered him (Something about his mother). This is a technique you developed after you were given up to various foster homes after your father was burnt to death (And then also when he found you again) when stinky foster parents, foster siblings, bullies at school rando’s off the street wanted to put their hands on you, and that you mastered since. It works, evidently, with asexual zombie monsters too.

After that, you went back to your van and rap up your foot, thinking that at least the lake water cleaned up the cut on your foot, and then grumpily set up your bed on your window now since the van (Poor, dear Mandy) is now on its side thanks to the local undead jerk!

You hadn’t slept a wink the rest of that night, not because of the hulking mass of rotten flesh and a hockey mask that you knew was lurking somewhere close by, watching you, but because you weren’t about to waste an extra Hypnocil pill in one night. You just laid there, pillows propping you up and being bored. Staring at the ceiling, smearing various ugly pastel shades onto a page in your sketchbook, listening to the woods and imagining getting rawed by Danny Zuko were highlights. Then, when daylight finally broke out, you were finally, unhappily wondering how you were going to get Mandy back on her wheels, zipping up your jacket and looking at your beautiful pale-yellow Volkswagen.

You thinking what pain this would be to correct… and then having turned on your heel and went on a trek to the closest town to get some kind of breakfast. Procrastinating the inevitable.

When you had returned, a bag of groceries in your arms -drink propped on top of everything else so you could sip through the straw as you walked,- , your van was back on her wheels.

You don’t know what it was about you that made him do that, that made him stop and not kill you, and its likely you’ll never find out since he doesn’t talk, after that you had gone directly to find the - cute, now, -behemoth you knew fixed it for you, to make and give him fairy bread to say thank you and sorry for what happened last night- and honestly you’ve been friendly ever since. More then friendly, after a while, but never less then.

___TIME SKIP: Current time now. Months and months after you met___

~ POV Change~

Oh my god.

The second I see that the familiar bottle, the one from Typo with the Coca Cola logo on it that reminds me absolutely zero percent of my father that I keep Hypnocil pills in is not where I left it, a deep sense of dread and anxiety fills me up to the brim- only proceeding to grow outwards to the air around me as I search in an increasingly more panicked fashion for the thing. Where is it!? Where is it, where is it, where is it. “Where, where, where, where, where, where- “

I fling a pillow out the back of the van and am just bundling up the blankets, not caring what else goes with it to push out as well so I can find that fucking bottle when I notice Jason standing there at the back doors watching me, head tilted. I immediately stop what I’m doing, heart stopping for a second. “Lost something.” Is all I can squeak out.

He leans forward and I watch as I bends down so his head and upper body are in here with me and looks around, then up at me again as if to ask what I’m looking for so he can help me. “I-Its, um… “ My voice trembles. I need to find that bottle- the fact that Jason is being so sweet and offering to help me look just makes me feel even less together. I could cry. “A r-red bottle with umm, curly writing on it?” He probably doesn’t remember what coke is, much less the logo…

He nods, and starts looking around, eyes focused and slow as the graze along everything in the van so studiously that I stay extra still instead of helping- so he doesn’t miss anything with that super-vision he’s acting like he must have. The vans a mess and I’m just kneeling in the corner, against the driver’s seat with the blankets all bundles up in my lap, worrying my bottom lip and waiting for this man to save me. Please, jesus- help me. Save me.

A moment later and I’m about to slowly move from my place and Jason suddenly moves. His heavy arm shoots forward and pulls the bottle, a tubular shock of red, out of a nook between my portable DVD player/screen and some books and I was showing him earlier, offering it to me.

Dropping the blankets and sitting on them instead, feeling the softness on my bare legs and taking the bottle from him before hugging it to my chest and covering my face with my hands, silently.

Oh my god.

~POV Change~

Y/N curls up on herself, hiding her face and the bottle between her legs and her tummy and doesn’t make much noise except a quick, quiet whimper. She’s acting different, in a bad way. Why isn’t she talking to him, Jason wonders? Why isn’t she being loud? Is she okay?

Looking around the van, because he has to go in there and see if she’s okay- get her out of that body-cocoon, Jason crawls into the vehicle that he’s never dared to touch since the first night they met, and it breathes under his weight a little bit. He sits down next to her, crossing his legs and watching her for a while. What… to do… now… hmm…

Finally, he decides putting his hand on her shoulder might work to get her attention at least, and she does relax her shoulders quickly at the contact. Then looks up, face red, at him before wiping her face again and crawling suddenly into his lap. She takes a deep breath, regaining some of her usual colour and composure as Jason just sits solid and c o m p l e t e l y still beneath her, flashing him a quick, toothless smile. “Thank you for finding this Jason, it’s important to me.” She looks at the bottle in her hands, not wanting to put it down and risk losing it again even as she knows its irrational that she would do it twice in a row. “Its… how I keep him away… “

Y/N looks up at Jason, eyebrows risen up her forehead to watch him cautiously, worriedly, looking for signs. Did he understand what you were talking about? And if so, is he okay at the mention of your father?

He’s just completely unmoving still. Y/N blinks at the utter lack of responce. “Jason?”

When she still doesn’t receive a response, she taps his mask gently. “Jaaaason?”

That gets his attention, as he looks down at her face… and nods. A wonky smile that makes his somehow-still-beating heart flutter weirdly appears on her face and she looks outside instead. “So, what did you come to see me for? Ya just missed me? Hah, I missed you too cutie. How about we go for a walk? Its pretty today- ah.” When Jason’s big arms suddenly, slowly take action and wrap heavily around her, she’s pleasantly surprised. Her anxieties and panic from earlier all but slip from their knot in her chest and disappear at the action, and she responds by turning properly to her side in his lap so she can lean into his chest. “Oor we could cuddle. That sounds better anyway!~”

She taps the side of his face affectionately before closing her eyes, and he lets his own half lid themselves at the feeling of her so close to him. She’s so cute and warm. Its weird, but he thinks- if someone were to come right now in this moment, and not be loud and not do anything to Y/N or him… he would probably let them go.

(Well at least until he let her go.)

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Truths (One-shot)

A/N: More Gerard fic because, I don’t know, I’m kind of bored and have some ideas. I just recently found out about Gerard and Eliza. I’ve always been one for girls sticking up for girls, but she seemed a little crazy to me, not gonna lie. I hope you all enjoy it, and please, excuse my mediocre writing. Summary: (Kind of cliche) You meet Gerard on the Projekt Revolution tour, the two of you becoming close friends almost instantly. You were the lead singer of a small rock band which was blowing up during the time, their music hitting mainstream rock radio. During the tour, Gee ends up breaking up with his girlfriend Eliza. Like anyone is with a breakup, he’s pretty down, but you as well as others try to get him back up.

Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader

Words: 2395

Gerard was hurting, and you knew that.

On stage, he was an absolute beast. He could control the crowd as if he had grabbed their necks with his bare hand, he would sing his entire soul out and would give everyone one hell of a show. But then there was the off-stage, everyday dude Gerard.

He was a sweet, kind-hearted, funny, slightly disgusting guy who just like everyone else had flaws. And his tendency to care too much and put too much blame on himself was one of them.

“How’s he doing?” You walked up to Frank, who was outside of the bus smoking a cigarette. It was hot out, a scorching 90 degrees on the black pavement that everyone’s vehicles were placed on, and yet here you and Frank stood out of the comfort of air conditioning, out of care for your friend.

“Not great,” he admitted, taking another long and slow inhale, letting the smoke cascade out of his mouth. “And Eliza being bat shit crazy isn’t helping.” You sighed.

“What’s she up to now?” You asked, crossing your arms and looking up at him. You were only three or four inches shorter than Frank, being the smallest of anyone on tour.

“Won’t stop calling, texting, emailing.” He sighed, “She’s threatening him, saying she’s gonna kill herself, some crazy shit like that. I don’t know man, it’s eating him up.” You nodded.

“Where are the other three?” You inquired next.

“Ray just went out to grab some food, Bob is in someone else’s bus, I don’t know who, and Mikey’s inside, trying to help.” You looked down, letting an inaudible sigh trail from your lips. “If you want to go in, I’m sure you can. Gee would probably be happy to see you.” You lightly smiled.

“Ya think?” You asked, looking back up at him.

“Oh, I know.” He let out the last bud of his cigarette, throwing it down and rubbing it into the concrete with his shoe. “I mean, let’s be honest. You’re the highlight for most people on this tour. And your music is fucking insanely good.”

“Thanks, Frank.” You lightly blushed at his compliment. You knocked on the bus door, hearing Mikey say, “Come in.” before entering. Opening the door, and slowly closing it, you looked up to see Gerard, head in his hands obviously in distress, Mikey next to him, his hand on his back soothing him.

“Hey Y/N.” Mikey lightly smiled. At the sound of your name, Gerard looked up, giving you barely a smile. You smiled back.

“Hey, guys.” You said, only taking a few steps closer. “I just wanted to come in and check on you, see how you’re doing, and if you need anything.” Your eyes moved between the two. Mikey looked at you, then at Gerard, then back at you, before getting up.

“I’ll let you talk to someone new, okay?” He asked Gerard, who nodded. You moved to the side, letting Mikey, who flashed you a cringe, exit the bus. You immediately took his place on the leather couch next to Gerard.

“Hey.” You said lightly, looking at him with a small smile.

“Hey.” He said back, looking up for only a brief moment. His voice was in such a somber tone it almost didn’t sound like him.

“How’re you?” You asked next.

“Honest?” He asked and you nodded, “Not well, I feel like shit.” You sighed, looking back at him.

“I’m sorry Gee,” You said, barely above a whisper, “I really am.” He nodded, taking your sympathy.

You sat there for a few moments in awkward silence, both of you trying to decide within your heads who should go first, and what should be said. “Thank you for coming.” Gerard finally spoke up, “I really appreciate you checking on me.”

“Yeah of course.” You smiled, “That’s what friends are for.”

“I just hate bringing other people into my drama.”

“Hey, hey,” You looked at him, placing your hand on his, “You’re not the one starting the drama, so I don’t mind it.” He nodded. A few more moments of silence lingered between you two.

“Can I tell you something?” He looked up, making eye contact with you.

“Yeah, anything Gee.” You replied.

“I feel like Eliza really frayed our relationship, and I really hated that.” He said, “I’ve always found you to be someone I can talk to and you’ll listen and hear me and understand me, and I feel like she really tried to pull us apart.” You knew exactly what he meant. In fact, you had known for a lot longer.

You had known Gerard for three years, meeting him when your band was still playing crowds of 30 people, and Three Cheers had just been released. You and him had been good friends, but Eliza, well she was a problem.

“You need to stay away from Gerard.” She had told you only a few months prior.

“Excuse me?” You asked right back, outside of your tour bus. It was dark outside by now, probably after 10. “Gerard is one of my closest friends.”

“And he’s my boyfriend.” She sassed.

“He’s his own person.” You argued.

“I don’t want him seeing other girls.” She moved on, ignoring your valid point completely.

“We’re not seeing each other.” You clarified, “Gee and I are great friends, that’s it.” She rolled her eyes.

“I know you’re trying to take him,” She hissed through clenched teeth, “And I won’t allow that. So stop calling my boyfriend, texting my boyfriend, or contacting my boyfriend in general. And drop the nickname while you’re at it.” She smirked, trotting away like a rabid Chihuahua.

You never wanted to confront Gerard about the altercation, knowing you would have stirred the pot further. And you were sure as hell not going to tell him now when he needed less drama the most.

While you and Gerard were just friends, you had always found him quite attractive. Physically and as a person. You had kept it to yourself, only a few people really knowing. You managed to put on a pretty good “we’re just friends” face around him. “I think it was because she was jealous of you.” He spoke again.

“Oh?” You inquired. Of course, she was jealous of you. Not trying to boost your ego, but judging by her actions and words towards you, it couldn’t have been more obvious.

“Whenever I brought you up, her face would just turn almost sour.” He began, “And whenever we were around you, she would always get really protective. I had picked up on it and intended to talk to her, but I was just nervous, ya know?” You nodded. “So, I’m sorry. I was at fault for some of that for not speaking up.”

“It’s alright Gee.” You rubbed his upper arm, “Those were her own decisions, not your own.” He frowned.

“But I could’ve stopped her-”

“Knock off that nonsense.” You finally told him, “We’re still friends, Gee, and that’s what matters.”

“You’re really fucking good at looking at the bright side.” He said next, “It can annoying sometimes though.” You rolled your eyes as he smirked. You leaned back next to him.

“I could tell you we’re not friends anymore and I hate your guts now, which would be a complete lie. What would you think about that?”

“I think I would feel about a million times worst than I do right now.” He grabbed a cigarette putting it in his mouth and lighting it. After taking a long inhale, and an even longer exhale, he looked at you, motioning the rolled paper towards you. You shook your head knowing he was asking silently. He rolled his eyes. “Always miss goody two shoes.” You scoffed in response, “What? Are you going to sit here and tell me I’m wrong?” You didn’t even respond, just looked at him smirking. “What’s the worst thing you’ve done. The most rebellious?”

“I formed a rock band.” You smiled.

“Yeah, well everyone here did that.” He lightly laughed, “What about other than that.”

“Probably when I dyed my hair black.” You remembered that night.

“You sure you wanna do this Y/N?” Gerard asked as you two began getting the hair dye ready.

“Yes, I do.” You smiled, “And since you do it so often, I thought what better way to do it then with you?”

“Alright then,” He sighed, “Let’s start.”

“That’s it?” He asked. You nodded.

“Hey, it’s not like you’ve done any super rebellious stuff.”

“I was an alcoholic.” He said. You rolled your eyes.

“That’s different, Gee.” You sighed, “At least you’re sober.” He nodded.

“What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to tell me?” He asked you, out of the blue.

“What?” You asked.

“What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to tell me?” He repeated himself, “For real. I want to know.”

“Oh um, okay,” You thought. Well not really. You wanted to tell him how you had liked him and had wanted to ask him out for the longest time, but felt like you couldn’t. “I’ve always wanted to tell you how proud I am of you.”

“But you tell me that on, like, a daily basis.” He said.

“Well yeah, but I am really really proud of you Gee. You’ve come so far in music and as a person from where you were when I first met you.” He lightly smiled.

“I could easily say the same for you.” He smirked, “But actually no, you haven’t changed as a person. Which is fine because you’re a great person.” You lightly blushed.

“What about you?” You asked, “What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to ask me?”

“Honestly?” He asked.

“Honestly.” You reiterated.

“You’re the most beautiful woman on the planet.” You stopped, breath caught in your throat. You could feel your eyes go wide, mouth opening in shock, your face heating up to what you were sure was a bright red shade.

“R-really?” You asked lightly.

“Yeah,” He took another puff of his cigarette, “Of course. You haven’t been told that before?”

“Well by my parents, yeah, but that’s different.” You looked down at your fingers, pondering what to say next. “Can I change my answer?”

“Huh?” He asked.

“Can I change what I’ve wanted to tell you?”

“Sure.” He replied.

“I’ve liked you for a while now. And I know that sounds so juvenile and like I have a middle school crush, and it’s probably not great timing with all that’s going on, but you’re a great person and you’re really hot and handsome but you’re so kind.” You just looked at him, him looking back.

“Then can I change my answer?” You nodded, “I’ve felt the exact way but I was too scared to say so because I thought you deserve someone better than me.” You immediately shook your head.

“No, no I don’t Gee.” You lightly giggled. “Not that many guys like me, if any.”

“Are you kidding?” He asked, “There are teenage boys and full-grown men out there who I know get off to you.” You lightly gasped, gagging shortly after.

“Please, I don’t need that image.” He laughed.

“So does this mean that despite the fact I just broke up with my now ex-girlfriend, I can ask you out on a date?”

“Sure.” You lightly laughed.

“Is Cup Noodle fine?” He asked next, “Tomorrow at eleven, once everyone is out partying we can sit in here.” You laughed and nodded.

“Of course, Gee, that sounds absolutely perfect.” He gave you a genuine smile this time in response. “Do you feel alright now?” You asked.

“Yeah, I think I do.”

Time skip because I’m low key lazy

“What’s one thing you really want, right now, on the road?” You asked Gee, the two of you laying on the couch together, some Cokes in hand. It was probably close to midnight, parties still raging on.

“A veggie burger.” He sighed, “Like a damn good veggie burger.” You lightly chuckled. “What about you?”

“Maybe some crappy Chinese food.” You lightly laughed, “Like really shitty Chinese food.” Gerard nodded.

“Chinese food sounds good.”

“I know.” You sighed.

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when we get home?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” You thought, “Maybe I’ll spend some time at home with my parents. Just like a few weeks.” He nodded.

“I haven’t met your parents have I?” He asked. You shook your head.

“But I’ve met yours.” You smiled, “You’re mom’s sweet. A little crazy though, but sweet.” He lightly laughed.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“You could come with me.” You looked at him from where the two of you laid. He looked back. “Meet my parents. See my house. Not for the whole time, but for a few days maybe.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready yet, ya know?” He said, “I’m not a great boyfriend, bring home to parents material.” You lightly laughed.

“My parents won’t care.” You smiled, “Their daughter is the lead singer of an alt-rock band. They don’t care anymore.” He lightly laughed this time.

“I’ll consider it.” He sighed. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” You replied.

“Could I kiss you?” You lightly smiled, turning to see him.

“Sure, Gee.” You turned to face him, he was already looking at you. He leaned in, to give you a light kiss. It wasn’t anything special on the outside, but of course, it was special to the two of you. You smiled into it, him pulling away a few seconds after.

“You’re pretty.” He said immediately after.

“You’re pretty too.”

“Yeah but not as pretty as you.” You smiled at him.

“You’re so adorable, Gee.”

“Adorable?” He asked, a little confused.

“Yeah,” You smiled, “Adorable.”

“Actually, the first thing I’m gonna do when we’re off is invite you on a real date.”

“This is a real date.” You told him.

“Yeah but like, going out somewhere.” You rolled your eyes.

“This is just fine, Gee.” You sighed, “Can we just eat pizza on my couch?” He nodded.

“I mean, it’ll be cheaper for me so-” You smiled.

“I’ll pay for half.”

“But that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me.” He lightly smiled.

“Oh Gee,” You grinned, “I learned long ago that you weren’t a gentleman, which is okay. Because I still like you a lot.”

“I like you a lot, too.”

(Pt. 2? I don’t know.)

[anxiety-trademark]

The week in review:

Raw 08/24 NXT 08/26 Smackdown 08/28 Payback 08/30

Raw:

Sarah Schreiber is rude af confirmed.

Nia is funny, idc.

Shayna Baszler is rude af confirmed.

“Addams family reject” kekekek bYE

If Sasha had magical abilities, Bayley would’ve burst into flames upon making her entrance into the arena, and by the look on Bayley’s face, she fucking knows it too.

This entire entrance is insanely tense. Sasha is the epitome of “going through the motions”

Hi why are they having a rematch and why is it a lumberjack match? I’ll be patient, I’ll be patient.

I already love the dynamic between Shayna and Nia.

Bayley telling Shayna to regrab her wrist. Peeped that.

Oh my GOD I prayed to the fucking tides I’d never see Bayley’s “around the world” bs move again, plz. PLZ. Ultimate troll. Negative 15 points for annoying me; plus 15 points for actually annoying me.

Bayley and Shayna still have great chemistry. We are not surprised.

Damn Shayna flipping Nia over. POINTS.

I really like Nia’s hair btw.

Shayna still rude af confirmed.

Love. This. All of this.

Bianca has a lot going for her, I just wish she didn’t telegraph her moves so much. She’s a work in progress. I’m sure in 2 years with some practice, she’ll be a top woman. Shame there’s no live events, she’s one that would really benefit from them.

I like how Lana and Natalya always match. Cute points.

“We tried to elevate [Mickie] we tried to make her relevant on TikTok,” pppffffttttttttt

kekekek black screen. Let’s see if they actually continue to use Mickie. [X] to doubt.

So the point of the lumberjack match is to keep Bayley out. That’s fair. Could’ve just banned her from ringside, but alright.

Wow some awful fucking lumberjacks. Fuse a damn spine guys.

Lol Sasha took out the Riott Squad. Honestly, fair, there’s a DEEP history there.

Lana is a great comical character. She has a niche.

Nice bounce on that Frog Splash. Still doesn’t get it straight enough.

Well I guess I’ll never know what the fuck Shayna was going for there, but alright. Sasha loses, as Sasha does (again I’m kidding I know how this ends). Anyway.

Highlight: Nia & Shayna being Nia & Shayna together

---

NXT:

*Candice discusses her history with Tegan* No.

I like the ongoing gag of Shotzi running Robert over with her tank. Points.

Lots of telegraphing of moves, but Mia and Shotzi work together nicely, all things considered.

Gorgeous suplex

I don’t understand why you’d have Shotzi lose to Indi those few weeks back if you’re gonna give her this big win over Gatekeeper Mia. I understand Mia’s trajectory, just not sure why Shotzi was fed to fucking Indi lmao. Good for Shotzi though. A perfectly serviceable match.

“It’s gonna be a piece of cake because we are actually a team. They are not. They don’t even get along.” Hi Dakota, bitter rivals Becky and Charlotte - who defeated Baysha at Madison Square Garden - just called. They said that don’t mean shit.

Raquel needs to work on her conviction and acting, me thinks.

Peep that Raquel’s focus was on Rhea during the entrance pose, moreso than on Dakota. If I had to guess, I’d say that’s relevant to the future of this R&R feud.

Dakota wins cute points for trying to make herself seem bigger next to Raquel. Also just realized their gear matches. More points.

Lol Rhea just tells Io to get out.

A stalemate after a lockup is certainly a choice.

I can almost respect Raquel’s struggle to be taken down by a Hurricanrana because of her size, but it still looked sloppy *shrug*

Io looks so much better than she did at Takeover.

Really. Tired. Of interferences.

Booking wise I get why they had Rhea take the pin instead of Io, right... Don’t want your face champ to eat a pin in a throwaway match unless it advances something, and Raquel beating Rhea advances their own story. I get it. All I’m saying is in kf, Rhea looks like an idiot. Why save Io and tag herself in when she can barely see straight. She doesn’t even put up a decent effort, just immediately gets pinned lmao. It’s fine, I’m nitpicking.

Fine match, though didn’t quite feel main event caliber. Even though the top 3 women in nxt were in it, it felt hollow stakes-wise.

Highlight: Shotzi running Robert over with her tank

---

Smackdown:

Bayley on a mission to unintentionally obliterate every ounce of confidence Sasha Banks possesses. Sad.

Sasha is obviously done with her shit, yet sticks around cuz this absolute douche is still her best friend. The true loyal one.

“Sasha only carrying the tag team championship,” this is why they bully you, Michael Cole.

The doubt written all over Sasha’s face is a solid touch.

Bayley “what is self awareness” Dos Straps, everyone.

“I should’ve known your history and how you can never successfully defend a raw title,” Y I K E S. Sasha fucking rekt by her own best friend.

She immediately tries to make a pun lmaooo what a tool.

Bayley’s progression in acting over the past year is astonishing.

“Lucky for you, you’re still my best friend.” oop.

“I will get my vengeance,” Bayley just combusted into flames again (in Sasha’s head)

Let me start this off by saying Tamina played her supporting role here perfectly.

Love how the first reactionary change Fiend caused to Alexa was her putting in pigtails -  a hairstyle she hasn’t worn since what, early 2017 on Smackdown??

The way Alexa looked off in a daze after Nikki said her hair reminded her of the Fiend is fucking ace.

The way she snaps out of it is fucking ace.

The way she starts going off on a tangent before smashing the mug is fucking ace.

I’m not claiming Alexa as the greatest actress on the roster, but this particular character contains the perfect layers for Alexa to play, and nobody could play it better. That’s where I’m at with this story.

Points to Nikki as well. Great segment. Couldn’t have been done any better tbh.

Highlight: Alexa slowly drifting into a sea of insanity

---

Payback:

I cannot give enough praise to the attempt to iron out the kinks in the Riott Squad. So impressed that they didn’t just randomly stick them back together and shrug about it.

Nice setup to a Shades of Kay, beautiful.

iiconics are the professional shit stirrers. Perfect team to tell this story with the Riott Squad.

Nice save Liv, nice save. Points for timing.

Double knees into Riott Kick is their finisher, huh? Love it. Good match, points to everyone for showing out on the kickoff.

Love the “Liv 2 Riott” as well. Solid fan of this team, hopefully the tag titles are in their future. Now don’t split them again.

Nia tossing Sasha into Bayley to break up the pinfall is great.

Sasha “ragdoll” Banks, everyone. Took those bumps well... but we’re not surprised.

Sloppy Samoan Drop, but I appreciate Nia using Sasha as a weapon... again lmao.

I’m certain Shayna will never be a flashy wrestler, but I can respect her increase in speed lately.

Fantastic double team by Baysha; Sasha hitting Nia with the Frog Splash as Bayley hits Shayna with a Bayley to Belly. Good showcase of their shock at the kickout as well. A moment of, “wtf do we need to do to win???”

Love the double submission, LOVE using Sasha to tapout Bayley. Sasha “I’m a weapon” Banks, everyone.

Pretty cool that in one year, Shayna has developed a history with all 4hw. Love seeing wwe build her back up after her feud with Becky.

I’ll say it again: Nia is hilarious, idc.

Highlight: Nia celebrating her win

---

*Smackdown shined the brightest for me this week. Despite consisting of a mere 2 segments, they were both extremely powerful and provoked a lot of feelings, thoughts, and conversations.

[ofravensandgenesis]

IT IS FINISHED no seriously, this took ages. First couple of days were fine and motoring along with progress, then I was laid out for a week-ish with health problems. Then once I was well enough again I was back to being fixated on finishing this piece of my lad Joshua here for another handful of days, so I’m super glad this is done now. More talk about the painting, details and process under the cut:

Art Entry 01, Joshua Rook, Junior Deputy of Hope County. Regarding the painting’s execution, stylistic choices, practiced methods, and speculation on further experimentation for skill and stylization. _____________________________ Honestly I thought that the uniform’s large swatches of green fabric would be more difficult than it actually was. Turns out that was the easier part compared to the shoulder patch and metal badge. x’D The metal badge design is based off of and inspired by a custom-ordered cosplay badge design I found while looking for references, in this post here (link,) from v-i-d-e-n-o-i-r’s blog and Far Cry 5 cosplay. There are some differences in the painting’s rendition above, namely I flattened the middle section and made it all concentric polished metal instead of painted and the great seal rendition in the middle doesn’t have silver lineart either. Those choices are as much for aesthetic reasons of eliminating the blue ring so it was all a fairly simple mono-material-looking surface as it was for simplifying having to forego painting the foreshortening that a spherical dome might entail. Also just because the rest of the metal turned out looking good enough that an additional bit of shiny metal seemed like it’d fit right in for this. That being said, the badge design that inspired this one is rad and awesome looking—and I totally didn’t realize it wasn’t quite like the badges from in-game assets until after I’d painted it. x’D So, I decided to stick with this one since it’s simpler and has cleaner lines, and less engraving to pick out highlights on. Metal is very hit or miss for me to get right, so I’m very pleased with how this one came out! :D I think I did well on that one. The shoulder patch originally I was looking at real world references and ended up changing the shape once I actually looked at in-game references on Staci and Joey—who I discovered have slightly different details on their uniforms, like the font for their name tags—Staci’s has an old-timey-looking-font with serifs, Joey’s is a non-serif more modern-style font. Some pictures have them having different buttons on their uniforms either in color or shape (the former being exported assets, the latter being in-game gifs/screenies/etc.) This is also how I learned that the little landscape with the shovel, pickaxe and plough/plow are part of the great seal of Montana. I had no flipping idea that was what it was, looking at the patches in-game. The cosplay community does some great work for that, for which I’m grateful. I ended up looking up references of what the state seal’s design was so as to see the smaller details, and to find out what the motto meant ”Oro y Plata,” meant, leading to etymology googling adventures from there, as usual. All important details to paint though I think here, since Joshua’s deputy uniform is symbolically significant to him and will remain so throughout his story as part of his internal conflict for a couple of reasons. One thing I knew I should’ve done from the start, and reminded myself to do, was the fact that I should paint all skin sections at the same time, so as to ensure they all came out the same shades. I did not do this. x’D I’ll have to actually try to do that next time honestly. Same with the hair sections, while I like how they came out, I do feel the differences between the three major segments in terms of brushwork is not as coherent as I’d like, even if beard hair is not necessarily similar in how it lays to scalp hair, particularly with length and such taken into consideration. Still, not bad. Could’ve used more refs for the backlighting and figuring out how the highlights would fit best on the ponytail, but I think the hair curves turned out nice there in particular. Overall, Joshua’s hair ended up messier than I’d thought with how the locks all end up looping this way and that across his head, but it does actually fit him well as a character for his hairstyle to be messy and loosely held together, but functional. It did end up longer than I’d intended, so we have him likely ending up with a nerdy Jesus hairstyle when it’s down. x’D (Thanks to @undead-gearhead​ for that mental imagery, I shall take great amusement in that should I get around to drawing Joshua with his hair down.) Aside from that, I think I’m slowly improving on figuring out how to paint glasses, though I’m thinking in the future I should test more layered reflective light on them or something where the frames are in contact or close to skin, particularly around the glasses’ bridge across the nose and such. Then there are the other deviation details added—like using dark green instead of the black for the uniform accents. The faded black looks great in-game, but I do think the buttons pop more against dark green instead for this painting. I’m a little bit surprised how well the button-placket section came out, Clip Studio Paint crashed when I painted the first rendition of it, sadly losing all that work. I thought it’d be okay but turns out it didn’t quite get to auto-save that recently enough, but the second go around turned out quite well I think, possibly better. I was originally planning to try to put more textured brushwork across the flat sections of the uniform material, but decided to skip it for speed—I’ll test that elsewhere perhaps, though I think it came out well with the watercolor brushes layered on top of one another like that as is. Among the other smaller details, there’s some tweaks and such for how Joshua’s eye shape, eyebrows, nose shape, hairline etc came out compared to references of Greg Bryk in his role as Joseph Seed. I think Joshua did come out looking like he’s obviously related to the Seeds as I was hoping for, but I’m kind of on the fence that people would look at him and automatically assume it’s Joseph specifically that he’s descended from. I hope so, but either way, that’s how he’s written in-fic. x’D Overall, I would consider this painting a success, though as usual I do wish it’d been faster to finish. I do think this was good practice for detail work, and metal shading, also: buttons. Still haven’t figured out how to paint lips with more pink or red tones, I don’t like the way they look when painted sadly, unless it’s lipstick. That may end up being a stylistic element perhaps, along with how I paint the lines for fingernails and other such details. Fun fact: I have to leave the shading on the eyes for last, or else my brain goes “The eyes are done! We’re done! Call it a day.” I’m not sure why, but so far, leaving them as flats until the end seems to work a treat for keeping me focused on finishing the rest of the work with less mental dissonance. Now if only I could figure out why despite knowing I should do all the exposed skin portions at the same time, I don’t follow through on that naturally as far as inclinations go. Maybe it’s a layer organization thing and perception of wanting, say, the cloth to be done first before working “down” to the hands and such in the sense of working from the head down? I’ll have to think on that some more and test things in the next painting. Perhaps color coding the order of layers to paint will help? CSP does have a nice layer-icon-color function that I’ve dabbled with here and there. There are so many brushes, I really do need to test out more of them, I use, what, four or five total, but primarily somewhere around two or three. Hm, but what to do with texture, and how to utilize it so? Hmmm, as far as personal appeal for methodology goes, I might prefer to use textures in select pieces for more emotional emphasis? If I can figure out how to do that in a messier speed-paint style of things. Rougher textures for conflict, for example. That sounds like an interesting idea to explore, I’ll have to remember that for a later piece. Maybe more heavily textured brushes will also help with the mental itch to refine things to a cleaner-level of refining instead of leaving it in a more organically rough state. Hm, maybe it’s a “mental texture” aversion or something, as far as an interplay between the brush’s texture and the flow of the linework/brushstroke. Perhaps more uneven brushes echo that in a complimentary fashion to better allow less mental discomfort for me personally when trying to paint in a faster, looser fashion? Honestly, very tempting to go try that out sooner rather than later on some art ideas I have, but I’ve been missing my writing very much of late with two time-demanding paintings back to back. So, ideas for a later time to experiment with.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 32

As promised, this chapter is 4400 words - much longer than usual, and definitely longer than the last one.

If you cried at the last chapter, you’ll cry at this one. Content Warnings for PTSD episode, mood swings, mentions of large scale violence.

I woke up to a low growl vibrating in my ear.  Startled, I tried to sit up – when did I lay down? – only to feel something tightening around my waist.  Conor, I remembered vaguely.  I had fallen asleep tucked into his lap, exhausted after everything caught up with me.  We must have lain down at some point in the night, probably his doing when he started to get tired, too.  I could feel my face heating up with embarrassment at the idea of him tucking me into bed like a child.  The low noise started again, and I slowly cracked an eye open to see what on earth he was growling at.

Tyche. Of course she would find me like this. And she will never let me live it down.

Trying to preserve some vague shred of dignity, I gently nudged the man behind me.  “Cut it out, killer.” I was pretty proud of how calm I sounded. “That’s my sister.”

“So was she.” How did he manage to both mutter and spit the words out like they offended him?  It was pretty impressive, if I was being honest.

“Yeah, but the worst Tyche ever did was bust my lip when I was fifteen.  Stop growling. Better yet, why are you growling?” I carefully rolled onto my back so I could look at him.

“Keep you safe,” he mumbled. Now that I could clearly see him, I realized he wasn’t even fully awake.  Which meant he was threatening an intruder in his sleep.  Good to know, I guess?

A glance at my sister showed she was all wide eyes and smothered mirth.  Yep, not living this down.  Gently but firmly, I moved the arm restraining me so that I could sit up; it turned out to be an exercise in futility, because as soon as I was vertical and trying to smooth down my hair, his arm manifested again and pulled me back against him.  I took the conditional victory against the over-protective cuddle monster – I was at least sitting up.

“Everything seems to have gone well after we left,” Tyche managed to choke out through her suppressed laughter.

I just rolled my eyes and leaned far enough to the side that she could see Conor had his shirt and coveralls on still.  “I fell asleep after crying all over him,” I explained quietly. “He feels guilty, blames himself for what happened.” I gestured at my face for emphasis.  Hujylsogox medical technology could get rid of bruising, but that was only if the damage was in the skin.  With all the broken bones in my face, I was still a nifty shade of purple with olive highlights. “I managed to explain it’s not his fault, but I’m pretty sure it’ll be a while before he actually believes that.  I begged him for a hug, he gave me one, and then I just fell apart.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I saw that part.  Grabbed my stuff and scooted, made sure everyone left y’all alone.  I know how you get when people catch you like that, and apparently you needed it.”

My face flushed again and I huffed with embarrassment.  She wasn’t exaggerating: I despised people seeing me rattled, especially crying about it. I just felt weak when it happened.  “Apparently,” I cleared my throat.  “Anyway, eventually I calmed down and realized I needed to go to bed. When I told him, he just grabbed my blanket, wrapped it around both of us, and promised he’d keep me safe while I slept.”  I shrugged and glanced down at the now-snoring Irishman.  “Honestly, it’s probably the best sleep I’ve gotten since I first woke up on the Ark.”

“Given how he reacted in his sleep to me even being in the room, I’m not surprised,” she giggled.  “I mean, obviously you feel safe around him – you don’t even break down like that in front of me.” When I opened my mouth to protest, she waved her hand to cut me off. “I’m not offended, don’t get me wrong.  I know you subconsciously see me as someone to protect, you’re my big sister, blah blah blah.  He, however, is two meters and two hundred pounds, and has never needed you to protect him.  Feed him, absolutely.  Save him? Nope.”

I couldn’t argue with that, but didn’t want to analyze it any further, either.  Instead, I cleared my throat again to change the subject. “So, what brought you here so early, anyway?”

“Right,” she looked up at the ceiling before looking back down at me. “I did actually come to check on you after yesterday, at least partially.  But yeah, I’m also on official business.  Arantxa’s trial is today, and Xiomara wants you there.”

“They haven’t tried her yet?” I furrowed my brows, confused. “I thought she was caught in the act?” The act of bashing my brains out in the shower, a distant voice screamed in my mind.

“She was, but the Council has decided to abide by Galactic Law on this.  Begin as we intend to proceed and all that.  Anyway, Galactic Law requires that the accused be allowed to present a statement at the first opportunity after arrest.  No lawyers, thankfully, but she still gets to say her piece.”

“But she was arrested weeks ago?” I was confused. “Shouldn’t they have done that part, already.”

“Two things,” Tyche held up her fingers. “One, we had to be sure you would pull through, or she would have an additional charge against her.” I swallowed thickly, understanding exactly what she meant. “Two, she had to, uh… recover? From some injuries? Before she could actually make her statement?”

I remembered someone telling me Derek had attacked her.  “What kind of injuries?” I asked, my voice shaking slightly.

“Derek may have – okay, yeah. Derek broke her jaw to stop her from hurting you any further, and then broke several of her fingers trying to get her hands out of your hair, because she wouldn’t let go.”

Whoa.  While I had known in a theoretical sense what Derek had done in the past in defense of himself and Sam, actually knowing it for a fact was a strange experience.  I rubbed the back of my head, feeling the shorn, fuzzy length where it had been shaved.  Several fingers.  Plural. “Is he in trouble?” I finally asked.

She shook her head. “It was determined to be done in defense of you, so no charges can be brought under the law.  Let’s hear it for the aliens – the logic is that people will not come to defense of each other if they have to fear retributive criminal charges as a result.”

At least there was that. One concern dealt with, I sighed. Definitely not looking forward to facing my former friend. “Where does Xio need me, and when?”

“In the Council Chamber, in about an hour and half so you have time to prepare before the trial starts,” she told me with an apologetic tone.  “I brought you clean clothes, and your Council pendant. I know you had spare clothes in your office, but I – I had them destroyed.” She whispered the last part, and I couldn’t blame her. I, personally, had never kept spare clothes in my office. Arantxa did, in case I needed them at short notice.  If Tyche hadn’t destroyed the clothes, I probably would have, just to get rid of the reminder.

Reaching slightly behind me with a groan, I shook Conor’s shoulder.  “Hey, you gotta wake up.”

“No,” he grumbled, pulling me tighter against him. “Sleep.”

You have got to be kidding me. “Dude, I’m not your teddy bear. Besides I have to go see Xiomara.” Telling him that Arantxa’s trial was in a couple hours did not seem like a great idea.

“She can come here,” he yawned, not budging an inch.

Time to pull out the Big Guns, I decided. “Please, Conor, I really have to pee,” I begged.  Like magic, his arm pulled a disappearing act and I saw free.

“How did you know that would work?” Tyche asked suspiciously.

“It’s worked on literally every single person I’ve ever shared a bed with,” I smirked.  “No one wants to get peed on.”

“Huh.” She actually looked impressed. “Neat. All right, time to stuff you into a bath and get you dressed before the trial.”

Shit, I groaned internally.  Suddenly, the living part of the bed sat bolt upright, wide awake. “The fuck do you mean, trial?” he asked, no sign that he had been fast asleep three seconds prior.  “Sophie, you can’t seriously think you’re doing this?”

“Are you telling me I’m not?” I challenged, arching a brow in question.

“You know I can’t do that,” he scowled before clarifying. “You were really going to try to go down there, by yourself, and face the…person… who tried to kill you?”

I scoffed. “Of course not. Tyche’s going with me, and the entire Council will be there.”

“I’m going.”

“Say what?  Conor, you can’t.  This is a criminal trial.”

“She’s right,” my sister interrupted before it could turn into an argument. “Plus, Arantxa will be restrained the entire time.” Conor and I both winced at the name, but she carried on. “Soph is going to give what amounts to a victim impact statement, Arantxa will give her statement, all witness statements will be given and verified, and then she’ll be sentenced.  From what I’ve been told, it’s pretty cut and dried.  She either did it or did not, and in the event she did, there’s exactly one sentence.  No lawyers arguing, no twisting the situation for sympathy.”

“How will they know the witnesses are telling the truth?” Conor tried to argue. “She could still get out of this!”

“Uh, hello?” Tyche started at him incredulously. “We are on a ship full of living lie detectors, genius. You know, twelve foot tall scary-looking mushrooms who can practically read our thoughts when they’re in the same room?”  A grumble issued from the ceiling.  Noah was clearly listening, and clearly not happy being called a mushroom.  “Even back on Earth, we had the technology to detect pheromone changes when people were lying.  Do you really believe a species whose communication depends on pheromones can’t tell if we’re being honest?” She scoffed at the idea.

When Conor looked like he was going to keep arguing, I held up both hands. “Stop. Everyone just stop. We don’t have time for this, so let’s compromise.  Conor, you can escort us until we go into the Council Chamber, and you can wait until the trial is over if you want.  I really don’t have the energy to argue against someone wanting to make sure I’m safe, but you have got to promise you won’t start treating me like I’m made of glass, okay?”  He agreed reluctantly.  “Tyche, that good with you?”  She nodded with a little more enthusiasm.  “Okay. Great. Let’s get this dog and pony show on the road.  I need a shower, and I hate to ask, but to prevent any further arguing, Tyche can you sit in the room with me and keep an eye on me.  If I have a panic attack or something, I’d rather you be in there to cover me up before this dork,” I hooked a thumb at Conor, “barges in to save me from drowning or something equally ridiculous.”  The man in question at least had the decency to turn bright crimson and turn his head away.

“Fiiiiiiine,” she let out an exaggerated groan.  “You need me to do something about your hair anyway, so that works.  Follow me.”

She led me to the door, which I had been under the impression led to the corridor in a similar manner to the original room I had been in upon arriving on the Ark.  To my surprise, however, this time it led to a vestibule with five other doors.  My sister pointed to three doors off to one side. “Other medbays,” she explained before pointing at the door closest to my room. “Corridor, and this is the bathroom and shower facilities,” she finished, leading me through the final door.

To my relief, the facilities on the other side looked nothing like the hygiene facilities set up on Level One.  Where those had been boxy and efficient, clearly human construction, this room matched the typical Hujylsogox design evident throughout the Ark.  Four partially closed in, cylindrical showers were set into one wall, with a curtain available for modesty. Closer inspection showed that the water descended in a small waterfall rather than the typical spray.

“Their medbay has a freaking spa,” I murmured in amazement.

When I turned to my sister, she was nodding enthusiastically. “They’re also equipped with sonic cleansers, in the event of hydrophobic species. I tried it, feels like a weird massage.  But it works.”

“Should I try that first?” I asked nervously. Even though I didn’t remember any of what happened, there was still a primitive part of my brain that was slightly off-kilter at the thought of taking a shower.

“You can’t.” She sounded distraught.  “I know why you would want to, but with your head still broken, Noah was adamant that you only use the water option, and even then, it can’t fall directly on your face. Trickling down is okay.”

I took a deep breath, attempting to steady myself. “Big girl panties, got it.” After another breath, I decided to get it over with and stepped under the cascade. “So far, so good,” I reported with a broken laugh.

“Just keep talking,” Tyche advised.

Dutifully, I kept up a stream of chatter, even if it wasn’t directly about how I was feeling.  It was distracting, which was nice.  I tried to focus on how luxurious the shower was; the water was the perfect temperature, just the right flow rate.  The sound of the falling water was incredibly relaxing, and combined with the swooping design of the shower, it gave the feeling of washing off under a stream falling into a cavern.  All of the soaps felt and smelled nice, and reminded me of herbal tea in a way I couldn’t quite explain.  I mused out loud where Noah learned about Terran soap, and was told that someone on board actually made them and programmed the recipe into the consoles.

Finally, I couldn’t put off the part I had been dreading: washing my hair.  With a shaky breath, I started lathering what had been left behind after my impromptu haircut, and was surprised to find I was fine.  I even managed to close my eyes and enjoy it – I had always loved washing my hair.

Suddenly, my fingers caught in a tangle and pulled.  All the air left my lungs in a rush, and I distantly heard a thud as I fell to my knees.  Tears were rolling down my face as I desperately rinsed my hands. “Tyche,” I gulped back a sob. “I can’t.  I can’t do this.  I was okay until I started washing my hair, and then it pulled and – “  The shower curtain was yanked back and I looked up at my sister, so consumed by panic that I couldn’t even bother being embarrassed that I had fallen down crying while doing something as mundane as washing my fucking hair.  We don’t have time for this, I berated myself.

She didn’t even bat an eye. “We need to rinse it somehow,” she rubbed the bottom half of her face. Snapping her fingers, she seemed to have an idea. “Be right back,” she said, pulling the curtain closed. It jerked back again briefly. “I’m not leaving the room, stay in there, okay?” Not waiting for response, she snapped the curtain closed again.

While she was gone, I tried to take several steadying breaths, and even managed a couple that didn’t shake.  As I adjusted so I was sitting on the floor, knees pulled to my chest, I heard her talking to someone. “Grab me a bucket…No, a clean one!  No, she isn’t about to puke. For fuck sake, just get me a damned bucket!”  A couple minutes later, an arm holding a bucket poked around the curtain. “Here’s our solution!” she proclaimed proudly before her head joined her arm. “Turn around, grab your knees, head back.”

I did as she instructed. Without further ado, she filled the bucket before turning the water off, and gently started pouring the water over my soapy hair.  Instead of running her fingers through it, she lifted the ends toward my scalp and gently bounced my hair to ensure the water got all the soap out. Once she was finished, she asked if I would be okay drying my hair.

My throat closed at the thought. Unable to speak, I shook my head in response. Not showing the slightest bit of inconvenience, she grabbed a towel and gently wrapped my entire head in it to soak up as much water as possible.  Once she removed the towel, she sprayed something in my hair that made me sneeze. “Sorry,” she said distractedly. “Gel.”  Once again, she started scrunching my hair toward the scalp.

Finally, she declared me done.  “That’s as good as we’ll get without a blow dryer.   We may have to limit you to sponge baths with me washing your hair until your face finishes healing.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, so embarrassed at this point that I didn’t even want to stand up.  I had just fallen apart, like a fucking child. It was so weak, even more so than falling apart on Conor the night before. I couldn’t even take a shower without being afraid to wash what was left my hair.

“Soph, stop,” Tyche commanded in a voice that usually made grown men shake slightly.  Through sheer practice, I ignored her. It was to no avail, apparently, because she kept talking. “There is nothing wrong with you. You were assaulted, damnit!  There’s nothing weak about wanting to avoid the place you were, or the things you were doing when it happened!  It’s the most normal thing in the world. Which means you aren’t some freak, or some failure, you’re just depressingly, heartbreakingly normal for once in our fucked-up lives.  It’s okay to be scared, or depressed.”

Part of me knew she was right, but another part just wanted to skip ahead to the part of my story where my hair had grown back and I could wash it again.  Or just rewind and have none of this happen. No matter how many times I tried to tell myself what happened and who was behind it, my brain refused to acknowledge that Arantxa did this. It could comprehend the assault well enough to force me into panic attacks just from snagging my pinky on a knot in my hair, but refused to admit who was responsible.

I didn’t even realize I had been talking out loud until a voice responded from the ceiling. “As your sister has kindly explained to me, Wisdom, human brains are not meant to handle such trauma.  The – psyche? – psyche breaks.  Eventually, I understand it will heal, just like your bones do.”

The absurdity of Noah trying to reassure me in their clumsy way forced a small smile on my face. “Thank you, Noah. Maybe today will help, with the trial and all.”  There was a slice of my mind that tried to hold on to that hope, or at least to the idea that I would finally be able to accept who was responsible for the attempt on my life. It would at least be a step in the right direction.  Pulling myself together – despite the fact that Tyche had told me repeatedly in the past that she hated watching me ‘switch modes’, as she put it – I managed to stand without wobbling – point to me – and ask my sister for some clothes.  Shakily, I was able to dress myself without help, although I did have to sit down once I had my pants on.  I drew the line at shoes, however.

“Soph, you’re going to be a witness at a criminal trial,” my sister explained in a frustrated tone, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You can’t go barefoot.”

“I don’t like wearing shoes, to begin with, and you know it,” I countered.  “Even on the best of days, I kick them off constantly, and this is far from the best of days.  Besides, you said this will be in the Council Chamber, right?” She nodded. “Okay, well, you know as well as I do: that room is most certainly not large enough to walk around in unless you have to. Even if I stand up to testify, no one will see my feet, so it really doesn’t matter.”

She scowled at me. “You still have to walk there,” she admonished.

“So?” I shrugged. “I’m pretty sure they’ll be less concerned with my bare feet than they will be with this.” I gestured to my head.  The scowl intensified, but she gave up on making me wear shoes, at least.

Feeling at least a little triumphant, we exited the bathroom and collected Conor. “Your hair looks good like that,” he ventured in a tentative tone.

I waved it off.  “It’s okay, Conor, I’m not terribly concerned with my hair.  The only reason it was as long as it was is because I couldn’t be assed to cut it. Thank you, though. I’m glad it looks okay.”  He stood straighter in visible relief, and I couldn’t blame him, honestly.  Even I knew that women in general could be notoriously touchy about our hair; I just wasn’t one of them.

The journey to the Council Chambers took long enough that I was relieved that the episode with the shower hadn’t taken any longer than it did.  Not because of my bare feet, like my sister constantly tried to argue on the way there – the entire ship was temperature controlled, so the deck plating really was not cold on my feet – but because we were really pushing the hour and a half window Xiomara had given us.  As I reminded Conor that he could not enter the room, Tyche signaled our arrival.

Conor had just taken a reluctant seat next to the door when it slid open to reveal my fellow Councillor, more frazzled than I had ever seen her.  Brushing past my sister, she grabbed my shoulders firmly and turned me side to side, examining me.  Releasing her breath in a whoosh, she collapsed slightly in what seemed to be relief. “Part of me could not believe you were alive,” she admitted. “I had to make sure you were really here.”  She squeezed my arms gently, the closest she ever came to a hug in my experience.

Just how bad was it? I wondered in trepidation.  Instead, I asked out loud “Why am I here so far ahead of the actual trial?”

“I want to go over everything with you so you’re prepared and don’t get blindsided,” she explained, glancing at my sister.  When I turned to glance her direction, Tyche ducked her head and turned away.

Seeing that, I threw both hands in front me of me, palms out. “Hang on. What the actual fuck is going on here?”

”Language,” two voices scolded from the ceiling.  Right. I was in the corridor.  Had to be somewhat professional, apparently, despite nearly dying.

I tried again through clenched teeth. “What is going on? I thought this was just a trial charging her with assault and sabotage of the ship.” I looked between my sister and Xiomara again.  Conor, at least, looked as confused as I was.

Taking a deep breath, Xiomara spoke. “Yes, she is being charged with sabotage of the ship, and with attempted murder, not assault.  Even then, those are only two of the charges.” She paused and looked up, rubbing her mouth and jaw with one hand. Was she bracing herself? “Arantxa Bidarte is also being charged with two additional crimes. One is conspiracy to commit murder – “

“Wait,” I interrupted. “She’s already being charged with trying to kill me. Why conspiracy?”

“Conspiracy to kill Noah,” she clarified. “The sensor damaged was intended to destroy the ship, or at least delay it until they could figure out a way to destroy it. That would kill Noah, entirely, so ‘murder’.”

I nodded in understanding despite the sudden need to vomit. They planned to destroy the ship? “What about everyone else on board?” I asked in confusion.

“That’s the fourth charge,” was the grim reply. “I ordered your sister not to disclose this any sooner, because I wanted you to recuperate as much as possible prior to today.”

I stared at my sister, incredulous.  Without looking at me, she closed her eyes and nodded, jaw set in such a way that I could tell she was clenching her teeth, too. “She still outranks me, unfortunately,” she told me drily.

“What is the fourth charge?” I demanded.  If she ordered my sister to keep a secret from me – not asked, ordered – there had better be a damned good reason.

“Genocide,” Xiomara whispered.  My eyes grew so wide it was actually painful, and every breath of air rushed from my lungs. “If they had succeeded, it would have wiped out what’s left of humanity. Galactic Law or Terran, wiping out an entire race is genocide.”

“What – “ I sputtered. “That’s – what do you even do for something like that?” My brain was still trying to comprehend what I was hearing.  Genocide? I could vaguely remember reading about war criminals being found guilty back on Earth about fifty years ago, most being sentenced to life imprisonment.  Where would we even imprison someone –

“We didn’t know when we decided to charge her under Galactic Law,” Xiomara choked out. “You have to believe that. There’s only one punishment for genocide or conspiracy to commit it.”

“You’re shitting me,” Tyche gasped, realizing something I didn’t.  It wasn’t any wonder: she had been given days or weeks longer to process all this, while my brain was still trying to catch up to ‘genocide’ to begin with.

Xiomara, though, shook her head grimly at my sister. “I’m not.  If she and any of her conspirators are found guilty of – that – they are to be sentenced to immediate execution.”

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[erlenmeyertrash]

Mirror, Mirror

angst?? whomst????? is she??? we will have none of that on this fine monday evening

(halfway-through author’s note: ...okay maybe just a little angst. the most infinitesimal fraction. but all the best recipes have a sprinkle of salt in there somewhere, so.)

words: 3249 | pairings: nada | warnings: a lil bit of self-deprecation

Virgil was furious.

He had searched everywhere. Everywhere. E v e r y w h e r e. He could not, for the life of him, find it; but oh, god, he was loathe to ask the others for help.

Obviously he wore makeup. Obviously. The dark eyeshadow was a dead giveaway, but peering closer at his skin would reveal the slight yet tell-tale signs of further makeup use. Virgil was well-practiced, but didn’t consider himself an expert by any means, so he was sure there was usually at least one spot where his foundation wasn’t blended perfectly along his jawline, or days when the highlight at the tip of his nose or top of his cheekbones was a bit too blinding to look completely natural. Thankfully, none of the other sides seemed to notice, or comment on it if they ever did. He was a bit self-conscious about it- but then again, he was far more self-conscious about his face when it was completely bare, so on the makeup went.

Of course, that couldn’t really happen if he couldn’t find the bag containing all of his makeup products.

It wasn’t in its usual place on the desk in his room that morning; nor, he discovered, did it seem to be anywhere else. He scoured his shelves, combed through his closet, and even checked under the bed in an act of desperation, but the black bag was nowhere to be seen.

He sat back on his heels, running his hands through his hair and tugging at the vibrant purple strands. Where was it? The bag never went beyond his door. He always did his makeup in the comfort of his own room, rather than in the bathroom they all shared. His bright desk lamp and the compact mirror in the bag were plenty sufficient, anyways.

Virgil let out a huff and resolutely checked under his bed once more before standing and beginning to pace. It was still early in the morning, but Thomas was going out with some friends today, so Virgil was definitely going to be called into action at some point. And he couldn’t just saunter out there in front of everyone and expect to be taken seriously looking like…

...Well, looking like he did.

He was Anxiety, so he was the one who kept the remnants of acne from Thomas’ cringe-worthy teen years. The one with the neon red blush of embarrassment almost constantly on his face. The one with actual under-eye bags from sleepless nights of worry. It would’ve been fine if he were Patton, who, in true physical-manifestation-of-sunshine fashion, always had a bright, shining face with adorable rosy cheeks. Logan was all cool, sharp angles- the handsome high cheekbones and sharp jawline that mimicked his most recent favorite Sherlock Holmes actor, as well as a perfectly clean face (from the proper self-care he stressed so much to Thomas) that would never have a blemish that needed covering. Roman had the golden, tanned skin from his adventures, the regal nose and brow bone, the-

...the stage makeup, maybe?

Virgil brightened. Of course Roman would have some! He was always the one most deeply involved in Thomas’ performances, after all. Virgil had never taken the time to really inspect the creative Side’s face, but if any of the others were to wear makeup, it definitely would’ve been Roman. All Virgil had to do was just go ask if he could borrow Roman’s, and-

...and therein lay the problem. Virgil would have to leave his room (without makeup), go down the hall (without makeup), knock on Roman’s door (without makeup), and ask Roman (without makeup) if he could borrow some. That was… a monumental task. Colossal. Ridiculous. Insane. Unheard of. Absolutely-

“You sound like a Logan and Roman fusion,” he muttered to himself, briefly halting his pacing to shake his head and rub at the corners of his eyes.

Maybe I… don’t look that bad today? Maybe… maybe I don’t need to use any makeup!

“And there’s Patton talking.” He sighed and slumped onto his bed, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie, contemplating his whirling thoughts. He had been feeling a bit better the past couple of weeks- Patton’s infectious holiday cheer had eventually cracked him, even if only slightly. He had slept better, eaten more, and actually been a bit more social without exhausting himself mentally. Maybe that had helped ease the… sharpness… of his natural appearance.

There was only one way to find out without the mirror in his makeup bag, though. And man, did Virgil hate this particular way.

He stiffened his shoulders, attempting to steel his composure, before standing and walking over to his closet. He found the tall, blanket-wrapped object situated in the back and carefully carried it out, leaning it against the wall.

Before he let his mind convince him otherwise, he ripped the blanket off and let it fall to the floor, but his gaze stayed stuck on the crumpled fabric.

“Well, well, well. You couldn’t resist, could you?”

Virgil ground his teeth together. The voice clicked its tongue.

“Honestly, Anxiety, I’m surprised it took you so long. I’d ask if you’ve seen yourself lately, but, well...”

Don’t encourage him, Virgil told himself, even as his hackles rose and he felt his heart beat faster.

“So? What’s wrong this time? That jacket’s new… but loud. Really… loud. So much purple. Who even likes purple nowadays? Are you sure it doesn’t make you stand out? And that- oh, my god, your hair. Your hair! Dude, what did you do?!”

Virgil jerked his chin upwards to look in the mirror and froze, gaping at his reflection. At the neon purple hair sticking up in every direction, looking like the worst messy bedhead Virgil had seen in his life. His under-eye bags were enormous and nearly a bruising purple-gray themselves, while his eyes were dark and bloodshot. His cheeks were marred pink and puffy, the tip of his nose was Rudolph-red, and his lips were chapped and way too pale. His bone structure just looked weird, mismatched, wrong, even- like someone was playing the Sims and trying to get the most unfortunate combination of face attributes possible. Not to mention the ridiculously bright, oversized jacket that hung awkwardly off his shoulders. Why did he ever think such a-

Stop. Stop stop stop stop stop stop stop.

Virgil ripped his gaze away from the reflection, who whined in protest. “Dude! What are you doing?! You can’t go anywhere looking like that! You-”

“Enough,” Virgil ground out, yanking the blanket off the floor and covering the mirror to silence his reflection. The damage, however, was done. There was no way he could face the others and Thomas looking the way he did, which meant he’d have to ask Roman for help.

With a sigh, Virgil moved the mirror back into his closet and accepted defeat before leaving his room and shuffling over to Roman’s bedroom door. He knocked quietly, running a hand through his hair to smooth down the top and trying to pull his bangs as far over his face as they could go as he waited for a response.

It didn’t take long for Roman’s door to swing open. Virgil found himself staring at Roman’s polished mahogany boots, unable to raise his face.

“...Yes?”

“Um.” Virgil winced internally. “Hey. So I, um… I just…”

Like a band-aid! Come on!

“IlostmymakeupandwaswonderingifyouhadanyandcanIborrowsome?”

He bit his lip and risked a tentative glance at Roman through his bangs. The prince’s eyebrows drew together in confusion before realization dawned on his face. “Oh! You need some makeup? Of course! Come in.” He threw his door open the rest of the way and beckoned for Virgil to follow as he strode towards the right side of his room.

Virgil followed him over to an extravagant oak vanity, complete with a plush red stool, a huge, darkened mirror sitting under large light bulbs, and several drawers. The counter was littered with makeup products, and Roman swept them to the side before opening a drawer and rummaging through what sounded like a lot of bottles and boxes. Virgil shifted from one foot to the other, watching Roman sift through the contents. Eventually, Roman cried out an “Aha!” and thrust his hand outwards toward Virgil, who startled.

“I knew I had this somewhere! It’s a little old, but it’s the palest shade I own. It should do just fine.”

Virgil took the bottle of foundation tentatively, looking it over. It did look like it would be a decent match- and, he guessed, it would have to do for now.

“Thanks, Princey.”

“No problem, Hot Topic. The mirror light is on the left. Help yourself to anything- I’m starving, so I’m gonna go see what Padre’s cooked up!” And with a flourish, Roman took his exit, bounding down the hallway to the stairs.

Virgil slowly sat down on the stool, running his eyes over the mounds of eyeshadow palettes, mascara bottles, and brushes cluttering the counter. He let out a low whistle at the sheer number of products. No doubt Roman had used most, if not all of them at some point- and used them well. Roman was definitely a makeup expert.

Virgil tentatively took one of the larger brushes and shook the makeup bottle slightly before sampling some on the back of his hand. Surprisingly, the shade matched pretty well, so he grabbed one of the eyeshadow palettes with a small mirror inside and got to work with covering his face.

Once he was satisfied, he rummaged around until finding a dark gray eyeshadow. He took another, smaller brush and began packing it on under his eyes, peering at his tiny reflection every few moments in the compact mirror to make sure he was getting it just right.

He wound up having to open a few drawers, but he eventually found a pale enough highlighting powder, adding a bit with his finger to the tip of his nose and along the top of his cheekbones before smudging it slightly. Once he was finished, his fingers drummed against the wooden desk.

Time to face the music.

Technically, since he wasn’t in his own room, his reflection should’ve been fine. Normal. He had caught glimpses of his face in reflective surfaces in the common areas of the mindscape and hadn’t had any negative interactions with those, so maybe the same would apply here. The vanity mirror in front of him was strangely dark, considering the amount of light flooding Roman’s room, so Virgil leaned forward and flicked on the switch to his left, feeling his adrenaline crank up slightly as he did so.

The lights flickered once before shining brightly, and the reflective surface practically rippled before the silver image seemed to whirl clockwise. Virgil frowned. And then- Oh. A magic mirror. I should’ve guessed.

The image slowly cleared, and Virgil was staring at-

“WELL! If it isn’t the fairest of them all!”

Virgil fell backwards out of the stool.

“It’s about time I got to- hey, where’d you go? Come back up here- let me see that attractive, alluring anxious face!”

...What?

Virgil crept forwards and slowly raised himself back up to stare at his reflection. Or, rather, the man in the mirror who looked like his reflection, but also… didn’t.

The man’s face lit up as Virgil reappeared in his line of sight. “Hello, handsome! I’d ask how you’re doing this morning, but you’re obviously fine.” He gave an exaggerated wink.

Virgil was glad foundation was covering his face right now, because there was no doubt he’d be as red as Roman’s sash otherwise. “Uh.”

“Come on, sit your delightful derriere on that little scarlet seat and let me get a good look at you! Goodness, you’re gorgeous! Where have you been, beautiful?!”

Virgil shyly sat down and forced himself to meet the man’s gaze, feeling his face heat up even more as the reflection let out a loud whistle.

“Well, I never! Roman has rescued more than a few that are dashing and debonair, but dare I say, they couldn’t hold a candle to you!”

Virgil’s jaw dropped and he buried his face in embarrassment.

“Aw, no, no, don’t do that, I’m sorry, sweets! Here- I’ll shut my trap for a minute and let you do your thing. Go on, have a look.”

After a pause, Virgil slowly lowered his hands, looking back up at the reflection in the mirror.

His reflection.

...But there was no way the person staring back at him actually looked like him. This person was… was…

...Was really good-looking, that’s what.

This person had gorgeous, shining, soft-looking hair with brilliant purple hues, from a deep wine to light lilac, that gently swooped over his forehead. His amber eyes were bright, accentuated by the dramatic dark eyeshadow that swept under his bottom lashes. His skin was pale, but clear and even-toned, and the prominent bridge of his nose seemed to only serve to bring out the other strong, handsome edges of his bone structure. The tip of his nose was perfectly highlighted, and his cheekbones stood out dramatically, but not overly so. His jawline was naturally sharp and curved towards his chin, drawing attention to the pinkness of the cupid’s bow in his lips. Draped over his thin shoulders was a jacket with deep blacks, royal purples, and hints of a bright white that added to the edginess of his look.

Virgil was floored. His mouth hung open as he raked his eyes over his appearance once again.

After a moment, the reflection regained sentience, pulling back to smile at Virgil with shining white teeth before inspecting his nails. “Well? Let’s hear it, love.”

“I… I look…”

“Gorgeous? Jaw-dropping? Eye-catching? Stunning? Striking? Captivating? Bewitching? Enchanting?”

“... not… like myself.” Virgil sighed and dropped his eyes. That startled the reflection.

“Woah, woah, woah. What are you saying, angel?”

“I mean that there’s-” Virgil weakly waved his hand- “no way that I- that I look like- that.”

The reflection frowned, tilting his head and causing the beautiful purple locks to sway. “What on earth do you mean, darling? You look like this. I look just like you! You’re beautiful!”

Virgil frowned. “But- there’s no way. In- in my room, I look… way worse. You’re a magic mirror. Of course I’m gonna look really good. Besides, I just put a ton of makeup all over my face.”

The reflection blinked, then tsked at him. “Sunshine, I think you’re just misinformed. You’re looking at the exact same person in both these mirrors, I swear- makeup aside, since, after all, it can only do so much. It’s who’s looking with you that’s making all the difference.”

Virgil frowned. “...I’m looking at myself? Just me here.”

The reflection laughed. “You’re absolutely adorable.Yes, you are looking at yourself… but normal reflections don’t talk back, now, do they?”

“...I guess not.”

“Now. I don’t at all mean to go down a dark, self-deprecating path here, but let’s do a little… reflection.” The man smirked and Virgil rolled his eyes. “What do you represent for Thomas?”

Virgil looked down. “His anxiety.”

“Right you are, you little genius! Among other things- self-preservation, of course, which is incredibly important to Thomas’ well-being. You do such a good job of it, too! But- what’s something that’s seated near anxiety at the metaphorical table?”

“Um.” Virgil looked down. “...Worry. Doubt. Fear.”

“Would you say… Insecurity, maybe?”

Virgil blinked. “Uh- yeah. That too.”

“So. Me being me- who is you, sort of, but let’s not get into that- I’m going to think here that reflecting on yourself while in a room that represents anxious feelings would be a reflection that focused on a lot of insecurities. Does that sound about right?”

Virgil nodded, and the man smiled again. His smile was something else.

“Look at both of us. A pair of geniuses. Logan who?” Virgil couldn’t hold back a loud laugh at that.

“Oh, my goodness. My train of thought almost just flew out the windows. That was the most beautiful laugh I’ve ever heard. Uh- anyways!” He hurried on, noticing Virgil’s embarrassed fidget, “Conclusion: reflection centered in anxiety will focus on insecurity. So let’s look at what’s happening now. Whose room are you in?”

“Roman’s.”

“Right you are. And what does Roman represent?”

“Creativity.”

“Yep! And what else?”

“Romance… and- Oh. And self-confidence.”

The man beamed and sat back, throwing his hands out. “Ding ding ding! We have a winner!”

Virgil gaped. “So you’re saying- so the reflection in my room is Insecurity, and you, in Roman’s room-”

“-am Confidence. You’re on a roll today, sweetheart! Look at you go.”

“...Do Logan and Patton have different reflections, too?”

The reflection- no, Confidence- nodded, adding a ‘yup’ and popping the ‘p.’ “Logan’s is Reality, and lemme tell you- what a stick in the mud! You can’t even recognize yourself, because it’s how other people see you- and you know the whole ‘if you saw yourself in a crowd you wouldn’t know it was you’ thing?- yeah, that. He’s that. He’s no help at all. He only tells you what you look like to other people. ‘Your hair will not draw unwanted attention. Your tie is bright blue. The bags under your eyes are darker than yesterday, but are not noticeable to someone who is not well-versed in your day-to-day appearance.’ Honestly, I don’t know how Logan even stands him.”

Virgil snickered. That sounded exactly like something from Logan’s room.

“And then Patton’s- gosh, what a little cutie pie! Patton’s is Love. He’s what the people who love you see in you. ‘Aww, there’s that smile! Your glasses are so adorable! You look like you didn’t get enough sleep last night, are you doing okay? You look like you’re working hard, kiddo! Keep it up! I’m proud of you, old sport!’ I’m not joking. Everything he says ends with a minimum of five exclamation points.”

Virgil rolled his eyes with a smirk. Of course. “You seem to know these guys pretty well. How come I’ve never heard of them?”

“Doesn’t Insecurity tell you about them? I talk with Roman about them all the time.”

“Um, I don’t really… see, uh, Insecurity all that much.” Confidence tilted his head, confused. “I keep the mirror hidden. Before this morning, I hadn’t seen him in… god, months, probably.”

“Oh. Oh! Well, that’s for the best, I guess. You seemed pretty down on yourself when you-”

“VIRGIL!”

Virgil and Confidence jumped as Roman’s voice echoed through his room.

“Patton’s only going to make so many pancakes, Stranger Thing! Better hurry if you want any!”

“You can literally just conjure him more pancake batter,” Virgil grumbled, causing Confidence to laugh uproariously.

“You’re a riot, you ravishing thing! You must come in here more often. Do your makeup in here from now on. Please. I insist. You’re a piece of artwork before you even use those brushes, anyway. I’d love to look like you some more.”

Virgil could feel himself blushing again. “Um. I’ll, uh, ask Princey about it. Maybe. It’s pretty bright in here, so.”

Confidence shrugged, the grin never leaving his face. “Worth a try. Well, until we meet again, I’ll miss your fascinating face. Your winning grin. Your enchanting eyes. Your-”

“Okay, okay, I get it, you boost my confidence. There are pancakes waiting.” Virgil’s cheeks practically burned as he stood and rushed out of Roman’s room, a faint laugh following him out.

[jflashandclash]

The Attrition of Peace

Forty-Three: The Pax Brothers

We Crash the Wrong Person’s Vacation

 Note: I do something a little different with the point of view in this chapter. I hope it isn’t too distracting! Let me know if it is!

             In the ensuing chaos—of Alabaster snarling a quick, “Dawn will make your ghosts worthless,”

           And the boar with a bowtie withdrawing a pocketwatch from a pocket that involved cartoon logic to say, “Oh, my good boy, we have plenty of time,”

           And Reyna’s and Melinoe’s troops engaging—Pax frantically searched for his friends who were less trained in the art of not dying during war.[1]

           He didn’t catch sight of Kally or the others as Reyna and Alabaster shoved him and Axel backwards across Camp Half-Blood’s boundary lines. But, he did see another figure.

           Off to the side of the Roman wedge formation and the line of ghosts, there was a girl with a leather jacket, multi-colored hair, and a crowbar and sledge hammer in either hand. Atë didn’t have her usual bounce to her, nor her serial-killer-doll stare. Her shoulders slumped. She looked sad while waving her crowbar at Pax in some form of parting. Either that or a threat. With his family, you could never be sure.

           Despite being out of breath, Pax puffed up his cheeks and popped them. He turned from Atë, the ghost army, and the Roman defenses and ran alongside Axel towards the creepy pit of nothingness and frowny faces that had destroyed half of Hera’s cabin.

           He and Axel donned their helms for ease while running, the Silver Tongued Snake’s head narrowing his peripheral with more darkness. He stayed close to Axel, knowing his brother had better spooky time vision.

           As they stumbled back through what was left of the strawberry fields, towards the central hearth of camp, Pax wondered if this was the best choice. He hadn’t thought the ultimatum would be—A: let Euna vacation in Tartarus or B: abandon his friends to a ghost army and the Roman army, both of which probably wanted to kill them.

           Pax snapped back to the present when Axel hissed, “You didn’t tell me campers were up.”

           Ahead of them, Pax could see one of the many lumps had risen from the ground, hopefully a camper.

           Without breaking stride, Axel sprang over the camper, using the camper’s shoulder for balance. Meanwhile, Pax skid between the campers legs and rolled back into a run. In their split second of passing the camper, Pax recognized the trembling child of Hermes as Chris Rodriguez. And he was pretty sure the Leonis Caput and Silver Tongued Snake had just made Chris pee his PJ pants. Memo to self: mock Chris forever.

           “In the words of Alabaster,” Pax responded as they saw the gaping hole in front of Cabin Two. Several sleepy campers gathered around it, gawking down and saying they needed to find Chiron. “’Jack’s voice wasn’t exactly soothing.’”

           In retrospect, Pax wished he’d have said something cooler when they bolted past the gawking teenagers. Like, “Zeus’s farts smell like Aphrodite’s perfume,” since neither god would know which one he’d insulted, or “Weasels forever!” to commemorate the Triple W team that he, Axel, and Alabaster had left in the Paxmobile.  

           He didn’t have time to add on before Axel stepped into the narrow corridor with Pax following after. With each step down, the walls narrowed. By the time Pax counted step fifteen, he could feel cool stone press against the arms of his weasel sweater. The light from the campfire above them had dwindled to a mocking hint of glow off Axel’s golden helm.

           With that and the dim light of Pax’s celestial bronze daggers, all he could see was the looming Nemean Lion pelt descending ahead and the red plumes of the helm undulating in the tunnel’s slight breeze. Pax remembered stories of the Leonis Caput “stalking the labyrinth,” as the monsters liked to call it—the monsters that placed bets on how Pax’s brother would kill Roman captives.

           After Pax saw Axel win his first coliseum fight to secure their entry into Camp Othrys, Axel forbid Pax from attending the whole “stalking the labyrinth” shindig. Something about how Pax wasn’t old enough to watch R rated films? Pax had never thought about it much, since it was prime prank time, but now, he wondered if this was how the Roman victims saw his brother.

           The updraft blasted Pax’s face with the smell of… seawater? Why seawater? It would be awesome if Euna took a detour to some beachfront real-estate, but that didn’t seem to fit the whole bent on godly destruction thing.

           Axel stopped moving.

           Pax could taste salt when he swallowed. He got the uncomfortable urge to scramble back up the stairs, until the plumes on the Leonis Caput helm faded into the darkness.

           “I can’t see where we’re going,” Axel said. Pax could hear his brother puff his cheeks.

           Pax swallowed again, trying to rid himself of the ocean taste. Something felt wrong about the smell of openness in this black confinement. “Aren’t you supposed to have like, bat sense or whatever?” he squeaked.

           “I’m not sure this is part of the labyrinth,” Axel said, “If it is, either something is blocking my view, or it hasn’t linked fully into the network yet. I’m not sure how this works if Jack bent the labyrinth to his will. The labyrinth is a living thing. It doesn’t like to be controlled.”

           Axel’s voice trembled and Pax slowly put the pieces together. Cages. Confinement. Control. Santiago.

           Pax wanted to tease Axel for getting claustrophobic, but that would be like punching a honey badger in the nose: both upsetting because honey badgers are cute and because they are incredibly dangerous.

           “There’s a door here,” Axel finally said, “Be on your guard.”

           “Oh, I wanted to relax with Reese’s Sticks and Kool-Aid the whole trip to Tartarus,” Pax whispered.

           The door didn’t open the way he was expecting. Instead of hearing the click of a knob or the ominous swing of a dungeon gate like Pax had heard in video games, the barrier gave way noiselessly.

           The brightness blinded the Pax brothers when they stepped out of the darkness. Instead of some dank cavern, they exited into overcast sunlight. The brothers paused to allow their eyes to adjust to the brilliance, their bodies to the warm breeze, and their noses to the intensity of salt and smoke.

           When they’d adjusted, neither moved. Both were too stunned.

           They were on a huge ship.

           A grey ocean bled into a colorless sky every direction they looked. Parts of the deck were smoldering, the smoke curling to disappear into the bleached landscape. Various charred boards looked like they were patched together with broken dreams and wishful thinking.  

           There was a hollow carnival atmosphere to the ship, like an abandoned theme park. A pool was in the center, filled with crystal clear water and formerly white patio chairs with blue towels scattered around. A bar extended from the deck into the pool for easy access.

           Before the Pax brothers recognized any of the people drearily shambling past the broken spots in the floor, they saw the posters on the bar shack’s outer wall: one was for an Orpheus Metal concert. The depiction of Jack’s maniac grin above his emaciated body felt uncomfortable. Axel and Pax looked so much younger with their drums and guitar. That was back when Axel had long hair in a ponytail and Pax had pink highlights.[2]

           A few feet away, another poster depicted Percy Jackson with a drawn on mustache. Several knives and tail spikes protruded the wall, illustrating someone’s target practice.

           Axel didn’t need to see the mast’s statue of a princess in chains to state, “This is the Princess Andromeda cruise ship.”

           They both puffed up their cheeks and popped them.

           Axel and Pax removed their helmets and attached them to their belts so it was easier to look around.

           Pax felt himself tremble. He glanced at the door they’d come through, only to find a Johnny Rocket’s entrance. The circular window in the center of the door showed the remains of a food fight in the restaurant. But there were no grinning Camp Othrys members. Just a few people scrubbing the floor with their heads down. Something about them looked familiar.

           “But… but why is it here? And… and how? Did the whole ship decide to take a joy ride out of Tartarus? Are we in Tartarus already?” Pax whispered.

           Axel shook his head. He clenched his jaw, trying to pretend the sight of their dilapidated ship didn’t bother him. “What did Jack say when he sang?”

           “What? The song about geography?”

           “No,” Axel shook his head, “It’s about being there for a lover and conquering geography to get to them, right?”

           “I don’t listen to old people music and I was a little preoccupied with the earth splitting to listen to lyrics. But, if it was something about that, then why are we on a ship looking for Jack’s lov—”

           Then Pax saw her.

           He felt like he’d eaten a full backpack’s supply of walnuts. The world tunneled until everything was fuzzy but her black, jagged hair and her mutilated, scarred face. Pax didn’t know he’d stopped breathing until he gasped out, “Flynn.”

           She was mopping the deck, staring at the boards with that icy, absent glare she often got when Jack wasn’t around. Like when he’d last seen her at the Massacre of Mount Othrys, her legs and lower waist looked crippled and crushed from where Jason Grace had blasted a pillar onto her and Krios, and from when Pax couldn’t protect her like he’d promised Jack he would.

           The random shades doing chores on the boat weren’t strangers. They were their friends that died during the war.

           Pax could feel his cold sweat when Flynn looked up at the sound of her name. Her eyes softened for an indiscernible moment, then they narrowed. Get the fuck out of here, she mouthed.

           Yep. That was Flynn.

           But Pax couldn’t move. He felt too nauseous. He wanted to curl up and sob on Axel’s arm, but he also wanted to never touch another human again.

           Axel would have normally noticed his brother’s increase into hyperventilation, but movement from one of the only non-ghosts aboard distracted him.

           A beautiful woman stretched out on one of the white beach chairs. There was another non-ghost beside her, lounging on a chair facing away from them. All Axel could see was the man’s muddy sandals.

           She folded up her tanning reflector, set it on the stool beside her, picked up a bottle of suntan lotion and a fruity drink, and stood.

           For an instant, Axel thought it was Reyna. The woman’s hair billowed in loose, black waves down her back. A complicated, revealing purple swimsuit clung tightly to her caramel skin, one with way too many unnecessary straps. Something Reyna would never wear.

           “Fei Lin, my wonderful daughter, you missed a few spots on the deck. And you forgot it’s rude not to properly welcome guests,” the woman said with a warmth of a pillow used to smoother puppies.

           She’d walked up to Axel before he smelled the aroma of roses intermixed with the smoke and seawater.

           Faster than he could block, Aphrodite slapped him across the face with the bottle of suntan lotion. “You,” she said with the same tight sweetness, “scorned me for a demigod. And not just any demigod, one that gets all sweaty and gross from fighting too much, and reads really boring books!”

           Axel thought about breaking Aphrodite’s neck. The more childish side of him wanted to uncork that suntan lotion bottle and pour it on her hair, since he knew it would make her squeal and amuse Pax.

           But Pax was trembling so violently, Axel feared the shakes might dislodge a floorboard and drop them into the mess hall. Pax probably wouldn’t notice Aphrodite’s cringe.

           They didn’t have time for the Goddess of Love. He hadn’t registered that she’d stopped her night visits when they got to New Rome. Too much had happened.

           And this wasn’t the place for a confrontation. He needed to get Pax away fast.

           Axel focused on Aphrodite’s ear, to prevent himself from identifying any of the ghosts around them, and to decrease the effectiveness of her love magic. Despite his attempts, he was furious to find himself thinking about nipping her lobe.

           “Why did you bring us here?” he demanded, trying to find something wrong on Aphrodite to ward off any attraction.

           “Eris brat, take this,” Aphrodite instructed, handing the bottle to his little brother.

           Pax squeaked as the charmspeak took over. He reflexively extended a trembling, sweaty hand. Tears streaked down his cheeks when he glanced from the goddess to Flynn, who had gone back to swabbing the deck.

           Aphrodite began to rub herself down with the lotion, moving her straps in a way that made Axel avert his gaze. Each motion was so deliberate and tender. He tried to picture Reyna’s face when they were cleaning up the war tent, the way her cloak had loosened on one side to look goofy and lopsided, the strands that had come out of her braid—

           “Stop that,” Aphrodite snarled, the sweetness temporarily dissipating. When Axel glanced back at her, she went back to smiling and applying lotion.

           “I didn’t bring you here. I was just having a pleasant, quiet vacation with one of my lovers and your friends interrupted it. The Plague Bringer and the clueless daughter of Demeter, right?” She sighed and went to flip her hair, though the locks had shortened to a dark, pixie cut and her eyes shifted from dark to brilliant blue. “It seems like Jack was looking for his love as a way to lead him and his friend to Tartarus. Oh, Jack and Flynn’s love story!” She grabbed the suntan lotion from a flinching Pax and hugged the bottle to her chest. “Such a delightfully tragic one. Just a pity the heroine forsook her beauty and cut up her face.”

           Flynn had stopped mopping. She glared at her mother in a way that told Axel—if Flynn’s charmspeak worked on Aphrodite, Flynn would force her mother do worse than cut up her face.

           “Flynn’s still beautiful,” Pax whispered.

           Aphrodite dabbed the lotion along the ridge of her brow and gave the bottle back to Pax. He jumped. “That’s cute and sweet of you to say that, Ajax. Peitho[3] and I were wondering if saying that makes you feel better about what happened.”

           “Which way did they go?” Axel interrupted. Out of all their fallen comrades, Pax had the hardest time with Flynn. Pax could make jokes about everyone else, and reminisce on stories, or cry about how much he missed Alabaster, but never anything about Flynn. Axel didn’t need Aphrodite teasing his little brother when the dead girl was in front of them.

           A glance down at Pax confirmed Axel’s suspicion. Pax was biting his lip to keep himself as together as the softhearted kid could.      

           “Hm?” Aphrodite asked, “Did you say you wanted my help?” In a gesture that looked absentminded, she took the suntan lotion from Pax and motioned it towards Axel. Meanwhile, she licked the rim of her fruity drink.

           Axel had nothing to bargain. He could try to kill her again, but that had left him on his knees, pining over her for weeks. He knew what she wanted, but he could never humiliate himself like that. As much as the smell of her perfume made him want to droop his eyes, they were surrounded by the destruction caused by negligent, vengeful, and sadistic parenting by her and gods like her.

           A thunk came from the chairs by the pool. Aphrodite’s boyfriend stood up, stretched, and slung an AK-47 across his back. He wasn’t wearing a shirt over his muscles, but did have a scarf tied around his head to hide his face, like a Somalian pirate. His sunglasses blazed with a backlit fire. Just the sight of him made Axel furious.

           Aphrodite sighed and tossed her suntan lotion onto the ground.

           “Oh, you’re not going to be able to follow your friends off this ship. If you want to tail them, you’ll have to go a different route, assuming I let you,” Ares said, smirking.

           Axel scowled. Any worry he had about Aphrodite’s wiles evaporated in the presence of the war god. He reflexively went to grab his sword hilt, only to remember that all his weapons other than his obsidian blades were in pieces in the Paxmobile. He didn’t even have his frying pan.

           “What in Xibalba are you doing in Tartarus?” Axel snarled.

           “What in Tartarus are you doing in Tartarus,” Pax corrected quietly.

           The war god gave a billowing laugh. “We’re not in Tartarus! What? Did you forget I control the souls and vessels of all the fallen losers in battle? Hades and I had a field day—”

           “—Fields of punishment day—” Pax said.

           “—drawing lots on who got your crew.” Ares reached over and ruffled Flynn’s hair. Axel could feel her hatred. He remembered how she’d publically humiliate people if they dared to initiate contact with her at Camp Othrys. Well, everyone other than Jack or Pax.

           Although Axel hadn’t always agreed with Flynn’s brutal methods, he found himself wondering how he could free her and the rest of his crew from servitude to this godly child. But where else would their souls go? Could they have a worse fate?

           Ares released Flynn. He cracked his neck. “I couldn’t justify getting Jack though. He had to get his own specialized eternal torment. Though, it looks like he’s got the Orpheus curse now.”    

           As much as Axel wanted to obliterate his least favorite couple off this ship, Euna and Jack were getting further away every second, and Pax looked closer and closer to a mental breakdown.

           Axel set a hand on his brother’s arm.

           Pax flinched.

           Axel withdrew and frowned. “Ajax, let’s get out of here. I’m sure we can find another labyrinth entrance somewhere on the ship. I think we had one in the boiler room.”

           If there was one thing Axel knew gods hated, it was being ignored. He went to gently corral Pax towards the Johnny Rocket’s entrance.

           “Oh, you think I’m going to let you go after you helped Hephaestus gather the parts for his giant rat trap?” Ares asked.

           Rat trap? Axel paused. He remembered Hephaestus hiring him for a retrieval quest in exchange for the location of Leo Valdez.

           “Ugh, Stygian ice is SO bad for your skin!” Aphrodite complained. When Axel glanced back, he could see both she and Ares rub their arms at the distasteful memory.

           Despite everything, Axel crackled a smile. He hoped Hephaestus enjoyed hatching whatever trap he’d concocted.

           Pax released a nervous laugh. Since Axel had directed him away from Flynn, color started to return to his face.

           Ares seemed too relaxed with their reactions. The war god lowered his hands, resting one on the pistol grip of his rifle. “I gotta hand it to you, kid. Normally, I like punks like you with all of your spirit and anger—”

           “—oh, it’s monologuing time—” Pax said.

           “—but, at least pricks like Percy are useful. You… I haven’t hated anyone as much as you since Ghandi.”

           “Give me a medal of honor,” Axel grunted.

           “After upsetting this fine lady—” Ares gestured beside him to where Aphrodite was examining her perfect nails like she wasn’t part of the conversation. “—I’ve been thinking a lot—”

           “That must have been very difficult for you,” Pax said sympathetically. Axel probably should have stopped Pax’s side commentary, but he was a bit too proud of his little brother to do so.

           The war god seemed unfazed as he finished, “—thinking about what to do with you.”

           “I’ve beaten you before, Ares,” Axel reminded him, struggling to ward off a smirk.

           Though… Axel wasn’t sure he could defeat Ares now. He had no weapons but his claws and teeth. He was exhausted from fighting Percy and Reyna. And he needed to keep Pax safe and hunt down Euna and Jack. Plus, there was the ghost army at Camp Half-Blood with Reyna…

           Axel thought about continuing to ignore Ares to find the closest labyrinth entrance. Then every ghost on this ship—all their dead friends—would be sent after him and Pax to drag them back to the deck.

           He was not in the strategic position to smirk. Axel sighed.

           “No… no…” Ares chuckled and unslung his rifle. As though to emphasis how unnecessary the weapon would be, he leaned it against the closest patio chair. “You’re not going to fight me. See, I’ve been Googling the best godly punishments. Normally, I just kill people.” Ares shrugged. “But I found out Hera had a way more brutal suggestion.”

           Axel wanted to make some snarky comment about a 4,000 year old man going to his mother for advice, but the words died on his lips.

           “Some little myth about a guy named Hercules? Something about his first family…?” Ares said.

           Aphrodite giggled.

           Axel couldn’t puff up his cheeks and pop them. His insides felt frozen.

           Ares couldn’t do that, could he? That wasn’t normally in Hera’s department of power either but, she was the queen of the gods—

           But Axel could already feel his claws lengthening without his consent.

           From the energized grin on Ares’ face, the god knew what Axel was thinking. He slung an arm over Aphrodite’s shoulder and pulled her close as they watched Axel struggle with himself. “I know you love to hunt and battle, kid. Now you’ll hunt and battle the things that you love. I think that’s well within Aphrodite’s and my domain.”

           Throughout their trip down Jack’s corridor and onto the ghost ship, and—really—throughout most of his interactions with the Greek gods, Axel hadn’t been scared. Annoyed and enraged? Definitely. Now, for what Axel thought was the first time ever, he found himself trembling in fear before a god.

           When Pax saw Axel’s shaking hands reach up and clutch his head, Pax asked, “Um, Lord of Primordial Awesome?”

           “Ajax…” Axel whispered, “Run.”

 We’re almost at the end! Only one chapter and an epilogue to go!!!! :D Thanks for reading! *ehem* please don’t kill the author.... >>’‘

Footnote:

[1] As Mel pointed out: books Pax should write.

[2] This is actually a continuity error from Ch 21, Blood of a Mayan. Making a note here for me to fix it (since I care deeply about my character’s hair… apparently?) XD

[3] Goddess/personified spirit of persuasion, seduction, and charming speech.

[deehollowaywrites]

horse of a different color

Four jockeys, two cities, one love, all Pride.

New York City - June 25, 4:15PM

“You know what’s so great about being based at Gulfstream?”

Joel looked at me over his sunglasses, black eyebrows quirked like he was ready for me to say something foolish or obvious. “The year-round riding?”

“Good point,” I allowed. He was such a workaholic, but I liked that look on a guy. “I was thinking more that Miami’s Pride is in April, so we get to do two per year. Aren’t we the luckiest motherfuckers on the planet?”

We were, to my way of thinking, or at least I was. Me with my paragon of a boyfriend, handsome and talented and a Classic win deep into a very good summer. Me in one of the most beautiful cities in the world--New York was no Miami, but it was a good place to be on the second Saturday in June, and the third Sunday was even better. Me surrounded by color and life, music, chanting in twenty different languages. Me and him and everyone else, the same and different for that moment.

“You just like parades,” Joel said, and wrapped his arm around my waist. “And marches and rallies. You remember…”

He cut off, a hint of a smile on his mouth, and I tried to decide what he might be remembering. Us two months earlier in Miami Beach, dancing on one of the drag floats with his cousin Dani, wearing Hawaiian-print board shorts and not much else? Us the year before, the weekend after Belmont, our first Belmont and our first New York Pride, or us this past Friday night at Fantasy, the ‘Men At Work’ theme and Joel’s breeches in a context different than the one I was used to--

“That rally,” he said. His arm tensed, his hand on my hip. I was wearing a tank top, Breeders’ Cup purple the perfect shade for a Pride weekend, and the sides were slashed down far enough that his skin was warm against mine. He turned his head, looking beyond the High Line, and his lips met my curls. “You remember.”

I remembered: the two of us in a crowd heading for the Miami-Dade courthouse, the wet June heat. His mouth, vodka-flavored; my best friend texting where r u and me ignoring it. Joel trying to tell me something, to open up, and me ignoring that too because I was a dipshit, or scared, because it was easier to go for what I wanted in that moment instead of what I was afraid I might want for life. The two of us at the start.

Across the rooftops Fifth Avenue was visible, the glitter and noise of the March snaking slowly through Manhattan. People we knew were down there, street-level, in the parade itself and along the sidewalks. Tallis was somewhere with Jessa and her girlfriend, and we’d have to go find them pretty soon, because we had dinner reservations at Ngam. As though on cue, my phone buzzed and I slid it out of my pocket, expecting a chiding Tallis text. Instead it was Lexington’s own blond-bitch princess, a picture of Felix and Adair in front of a rainbow horse statue in Triangle Park. A giant LexPride flag wrapped them together. I’d have sworn Adair’s smile was brighter than the light reflecting off their sunglasses.

“The cutest,” I declared, and showed my phone to Joel. “Great. Now we’ll have to one-up them.”

There was no question of the quantity of photos in my phone. We’d been walking all morning, pausing to get drinks and take pictures and kiss. If Felix was going to be all adorable, we’d be adorable right back at her--even more so, because I had a secret weapon of industrial-strength cuteness, and he was standing right next to me. Joel’s flannel had accumulated more pins and patches beside his old rainbow Cuban flag button as we’d stopped at stalls and merch booths, and--I rubbed my arm against his shoulder, where skin met the soft, torn edge of his sleeve. Was it the same flannel? Black-and-red plaid, faded, the softest thing in his closet. Back then, in front of the Miami courthouse, it’d been buttoned up; now it was open over his bare chest, sun glinting on a gold cross and the warm brown skin of his abs, black boxer-briefs visible above cut-off jeans and his Jordans.

“Just so you know,” I said, and I hadn’t expected my voice to be rough. “You look deadly.”

“You should be looking at the parade,” Joel said, but a smile slipped across his face. The hand on my hip eased north, his fingers hooking inside my shirt. His other hand tipped up the brim of my hat, then adjusted the JEWS FOR JUSTICE patch and the rainbow Keshet pin. A pinky lifted my Magen David from where it dangled over the Breeders’ Cup logo. “You look like free advertising.”

“The powers that be should pay me for this endorsement,” I said, and tugged his face down to mine. “The best is yet to…come.”

Joel snorted. “I guess I’ll give you some credit for waiting so long to whip that out.”

“Considering what you were whipping out on the dance floor last night, I deserve all the credit.”

In the sky above us, the sun passed over a cloud. It’d been like that all weekend, fast-moving clouds shot with brutal sunlight. Colorful sunscreen and body paint were everywhere. Yesterday Joel, long-suffering mensch that he was, had let me draw stars and horses all over his arms in rainbow splotches of zinc, a gigantic green outline of Florida on his stomach, a heart on each cheek. Now he pushed his sunglasses into his hair and gazed at me. “Ben.”

“Petsl.”

Tatteleh, I wanted to whisper to the smooth skin beneath his jaw, bubbeleh, gelibt boychick, every soft, sweet thing I could think of, all the endearments that weren’t enough in English and were somehow almost enough in Yiddish. He had a tendency to forget--how good he was, how beautiful, even on days like Pride when it was so easy to remember that we were loved, when it was safe to love.

I liked reminding him.

“I hope you’re having fun.”

“I’m always having fun,” I said, which was only the truth.

“Well--” he said. “But you know what I mean.”

“You mean,” I said, “that the racetrack is suffering without us.” He pressed his lips together, a sure sign that he was trying to be serious and failing to resist my notable charms. “You mean that the bettors are pining. You mean that Jamie Hamilton is gnashing his teeth over race five, which you would be winning right now if you weren’t here. Is that what you mean?”

He kept looking at me, his eyes soft black without the blue-tinted aviators, humoring me.

“Thank you for being here with me.” I kissed his cheek, the skin tasting faintly of sunscreen. “I know I can be a one-man gay Pride parade, but this only happens once a year.”

“Twice a year,” Joel murmured, turning so that I felt his smile on my lips. “If you’re lucky like us.”

New York City - June 25, 5:05PM

Jessa’s new girlfriend was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen.

To be fair, every woman I laid eyes on was up there; I just happened to really, really like women. And maybe I should’ve been jealous--maybe I should’ve looked at Esther draped over Jessa like kudzu and sucked my teeth--maybe in the back of my mind there was a highlights reel playing, the two of us that summer when everything changed, and the two of us in an Ozone Park walk-up, a Morningside Heights cafe, a Saratoga ballroom. But Jessa was happy and it was Pride, and as my grandma would’ve said, my cup was overflowing.

“Your cup,” Jessa said, giggling. “Tallis.” She grabbed the solo cup out of my hand as it tipped, my elbow on the railing of the rooftop bar. “Some poor soul down on the street won’t know what hit them.”

“Hey, like, if I time it right--like, when Ben texts me they’re heading over I’ll have to keep an eye out,” I said. “I’ll spot Joel’s frowny-face a mile away and then I’ll dump this right on Ben’s head.”

“That would definitely give them an idea of our location,” Jessa agreed. Esther looked at her and then at me, smiling and a little confused. Her face, I decided, was sweet. She looked like an icon of Black Mary, round cheeks and big dark eyes and a neck that wouldn’t have seemed out of place with the swan boats, her hair hidden beneath a bright blue-print turban. Jessa leaned over and darted a kiss at her, and I thought very hard about anything other than the berry flavor of her favorite purple lipstick, the way the sun hit her deep brown skin. “They’re Tallis’s friends. She just has a strange way of showing affection.”

“Ben understands me,” I said loftily. “And Joel respects me. Like, on the dirt, at least.” I sipped at the rest of the cocktail in my cup, what Jessa called an Ice Pick. Something along the lines of an Arnold Palmer, but with vodka. It was refreshing as hell on what was turning out to be the hottest day of New York’s summer so far. “They were supposed to come to the rally but--I mean, I suppose they were hungover. I guess I’ll allow it, like, how often does Joelito get smashed? Not often.”

Still, it would have been nice to have them at the rally. Ben was more political than he let on, and Joel was more political than he looked, and it was always chill when they were around, among the chants and the signs. If I couldn’t have Iris and Marcy, my best friends from high school, armed with slogans and literature, the boys were a good next-best.

“Those were some pictures from last night.” Jessa cocked an eyebrow. They were sparkling today, her perfect eyebrows, pink glitter swept along their arches to match the fuchsia braided into her hair. She looked like cotton candy, pink and purple swirled together in a galaxy-print romper and her lilac lips. “Tallis, I kind of figured you might wear something similar today, yet here you are in civvies.”

The pictures in question involved breeches, because Ben and Joel were predictable. I looked down at my own gear. “So maybe I didn’t feel like wearing my work uniform, geez.”

“Still,” Jessa said, face straight and brown eyes dancing. “Does what it says on the tin.”

The tin said DOWN TO RIDE in white block letters across my sports bra. It was too hot for real clothing, and Pride wasn’t for real clothing anyway, and I couldn’t figure why Jessa was giving me a hard time. Between my bra and cut-offs and Docs I still had more coverage going on than half the people dancing on this roof.

“You look great, Tallis,” Esther said, almost gushing. Maybe she felt like she had to be extra-nice, since she was kissing on my former lady-friend right in front of me. “Can I ask what your work-out regimen is like? Because Lord, you are in really good shape.”

“I mean,” I said. “I mainly just, like… ride horses.” I flapped my hands at my chest, not that there was much chest to be flapped at. Whatever boobs I’d been packing had long vanished in favor of muscle. “Like Jessa said. Does what it says on the tin.”

“Oh,” Esther said, and did that thing again, her eyes swerving between me and Jessa like she’d missed something. They hadn’t been dating for that long, they were still in the gooey stage of staring at each other and touching every three seconds, and when I’d heard--when I’d gotten back to New York after the Derby and Jessa had called me instead of responding to a simple hook-up text--when I’d seen Esther today, lovely and giggling on Jessa’s arm… It was difficult to be angry, or even that sad. Sad was a well-worn spot in my heart that would probably never scar over. But it was Pride, and Jessa was happy. Esther made her happy. Esther, who looked at me again and said, “Well, you look amazing.”

“Speaking of pictures,” I said, because things were starting to get awkward, “check what my guru’s up to.” My agent’s wife had texted me an hour or so before, and I flashed my phone at Jessa. “I mean, for real, look at this old man! I gotta tell him to perk up. Somebody up there better dunk his head in a cooler or some shit, like, it’s too early for naptime.”

Jessa giggled. “If I were Phil I’d have drawn dicks on his face.”

“Good to know,” Esther said. She slipped Jessa a sidelong look, lips pursed. “Remind me not to fall asleep around you.”

“That ain’t what you’ll wake up to,” Jessa said, composed. I tried to ignore that face of hers, the calm one she pulled on when she was delivering lightning bolts, the smooth full cheeks and innocent expression that came out when her hand was on your thigh. “Tallis, there’s a cutie at the bar giving you mad eyes.”

I tugged a curl of my frohawk and turned, hoping I seemed casual even though if said cutie bopped my way she’d find out soon enough that there was nothing casual about me. She was pretty, all legs in a pair of sailor shorts, black ink peeking out of her waistband and a belly-button ring turning olive skin golden in the sun. She had a tallboy in one hand, the aluminum hiding her mouth as she sipped, round sunglasses low on her nose.

Jessa whistled and kicked my ankle. “Quit standing around, girl. We’ll keep an eye out for the boys.”

Ben and Joel could take their time, as far as I was concerned. The girl at the bar wasn’t looking away, and Jessa and Esther had their heads together, tittering like pigeons, and it was Pride. Maybe I should’ve been at the track, making money instead of spending it, but there were a few things I loved more than horses and this was one. All around me New York was partying; from this high up the streets below looked like they were paved in glitter. Hands were being held and cheeks kissed and in bathrooms and stairwells and on balconies and throughout the parading streets people were in love. I was in love, with my work and the people in my life, even if... And some of that feeling I could pinpoint, I had the receipts committed to memory, and some of it seemed like it’d always been in me, and some of it I knew would never leave.

But there was always room for more.

Lexington - June 25, 5:35PM

It’d been five years, I realized when the float was swinging past Broadway, aimed straight for the arena.

“What?” Phil called, her hip twisting under my hand. She’d been dancing, so it seemed, since we woke up that morning, hungover beyond the telling of it in a hotel off Red Mile and Felix beating our door down, get the fuck out of bed, Eduardo, we got bigots to piss off. Phil grinned, her face close to mine. “Five years since what?”

“Five years!” I put my lips to her ear so she could hear me over the loudspeakers, the grand marshal in the distance and our float blaring Tegan and Sara. “I know you ain’t forgot. It was all your idea anyway.”

She looked at me a moment longer, and then her smile broke into laughter. Sun glinted off her tongue ring, a tiny little gold-edged rainbow for the occasion. “Oh my god. Eddy. I totally forgot I popped your Pride cherry. Baby.” She kissed me, still laughing, and I caught the taste of orange-bourbon slushies on her tongue. “Mazel tov, man. Happy anniversary.”

June was a good month anyway, so I’d always figured, the Belmont being my preferred of the Crown races and my birthday landing another week in, and now Father’s Day. I did like being a father. Add Pride into it, and June was the heavy favorite for best month of the year, as far as I was concerned. Phil linked an arm around my waist, moving faster as the DJ switched over to a Gaga remix. Her cheek pressed mine, the gold lame fabric of her dress slightly sticky under my palm. “I’m glad we’re still here.”

Still here. Still in Lexington, still together--still brazenly queer, her, and still a little squirrelly about it, me. I remembered that conversation, when we’d been together for nearly a year. You’ve really never been? But Felix… Felix, Pride enthusiast extraordinaire. Felix, who’d probably be Grand Marshal of Lexington’s Pride before she turned thirty-five. Felix, who right then was about a mile ahead of us, her and Adair and Maribel with Iona on the Ruffians float. It was the first year that batch of ritzy Kentucky horsewomen had reserved a spot in the parade. Felix had scoffed, but I liked what I thought it said about her mother.

“Anybody give you a hard time yet?” Phil said, and leaned past me to wave. “Here, we should start throwing beads again.”

There was a bucket of beads at our feet, half-forgotten as the sun and noise had gone to work on us. It was real easy to forget a lot of things, I’d noticed, this particular weekend. The mass of color caught my eyes, made me look everywhere at once instead of focusing on any one detail. The simplicity of the whole thing gummed up my gears. For once, for just a few days, you could believe things were all right.

I grabbed a handful of beads and raised them, looking out at the crowd on the street. “Anybody gave me a hard time, you’d have known about it. Seeing as you been all over me all day.” Phil bumped her hip into mine. “I’m not complaining, mind.”

“You better not,” she said. “And they better not.” Her lips tightened, her profile sharp with its sunglasses against the downtown skyline and the bright blue sky. “When we were getting ready to push off I heard that new guy say something to Marisa. ‘Who invited the hets?’ Some shit like that.” She tossed her beads out to the air, aiming for a couple of girls in UK gear, then leaned into my shoulder. “Like, of course I’ve got to come out to some rando on Pride. Of course.”

“You don’t have to say anything to anyone.”

Our float was one put on by the art collective Phil was part of, had been running in the Lexington parade every year that I’d been going. Any new guy participating needed to introduce himself to Phil, not the other way around. It prickled me--how this happened every year in some form, somebody looking at us and thinking they knew what they were seeing. It bothered me because it bothered her, not so much for my own sake. That had been part of the reason why I’d never been to Pride, before Phil took me. It had seemed like I’d be butting in, even if I belonged there, and I’d never been sure I did. Phil had been the first person other than Felix I’d said those words to. Even now I didn’t know, not really.

“Eddy,” she said, and kissed me softly. “Don’t worry about it. It’s been a great weekend.” Her hand slid down my back, slotting into my pocket. “Also, you look hot.”

“I am hot,” I told her, and pulled back just enough to drop a strand of beads around her neck. I’d been doing this off and on all day, watching the multi-colored beads nestle into her cleavage until she complained they were sticking to her and took them off. “It’s very hot out, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Uh-huh.” She lifted her hair with both hands, the heavy black weight of it, and pulled some magic trick to keep it in a bun without an elastic. “I meant that new ink, but you’re not wrong. You should take up meteorology when you get bored with agenting.”

I examined my right shoulder where it lay open to the warm air. I’d finally used up all the real estate on my left arm, the round petals of a Bayahibe rose inching down over the back of my hand. The first and only ink on my right arm thus far was our daughter’s name, etched into a scroll to match the one with my mother’s name on my left bicep. When I looked up again, Phil was looking too, green eyes narrowed over her heart-shaped sunglasses. She licked her lips and winked.

“I’m just saying. I’d marry your ass if I hadn’t already, tattoo like that.” She leaned in again, her mouth against my ear. “I like commitment.”

I liked it too. My whole life people had been calling me serious, too serious sometimes. In the early days someone had told me Phil got bored easily, and maybe it was true, but if it was, apparently my glitz hadn’t worn off yet. Hers sure hadn’t, and I doubted it ever would. She’d been hard to resist then, smirking at me over a big fancy Nikon, her tongue ring and those hips I wanted to die between; she was even harder to resist now, the soft stamp of motherhood on her, that gold dress low-cut over a strappy black bra and sandals winding up toward her knees.

Somewhere on this float was a guy who thought the two of us didn’t need to be here. Somewhere in the parade was our baby and her aunties. Phil had started this chapter of my life and we’d finish it together, us and Mari and Felix and Adair, and right then I couldn’t think of anything better.

Phil’s hand pressed harder into my pocket, then flashed my phone. “Someone wants you.”

“I know she does,” I said, and kissed her nose. She giggled, swiping open the phone. “So who wants me now? Better not be Tallis.”

“It is Tallis,” she said. “But not for work.”

The picture on the screen was my errant little girl-jock, smack between Gwen Taylor’s daughter and a very pretty girl I didn’t recognize. New York soared behind them, and color exploded in every corner of the picture, Tallis with a rainbow painted across the slope of her nose and Jessa wearing pink braids and purple lipstick. happy PRIDE 2 my favorite bi babes, the text read. B good & kiss Mari PLEASE xoxoxox Tallis n Jessa

Phil giggled, her head tipped against mine. The sun lit her skin and the unicorn-sheen blush she’d swept on that morning. “Happy Pride, Eddy.”

I kissed her and kissed her again, murmured it back to her, let it sink into me. Viva Orgullo.

Lexington - June 25, 6:30PM

Somehow, this was the first time I’d cried at a Pride festival.

The amphiteatre was crowded to capacity but every scrap of conversation and laughter died as the recitation began. Voices swelled over it, the choir on the stage singing ‘Amazing Grace’ while the speaker read out Antonio Brown...Luis Conde...Eddie Justice...and maybe it was shoulders pressing mine, a hand on my waist, and maybe it was Adair’s face on the platform among the women singing, and maybe it was too many other faces in my mind, too much terrible potential.

Eddy’s arm on my shoulders went tight. He didn’t say anything, and neither did Phil, not even to whisper jokingly that the rainbow painted on my cheek was about to smudge. I licked my lips, then said, voice low, “Can I hold Mari?”

I knew they were looking at each other over my head, but Phil smiled as she shifted the kid in her arms. Mari’s weight was comforting, her cheek rolling against my chest and her hair smelling of sunscreen. I wanted to close my eyes and bury my face in her black curls, but Adair deserved more than that, and so did the woman speaking.

So did the dead.

“She sounded amazing,” Eddy said a few minutes later when the crowd around us began to move. We stood there on the grass, an island of three and a snoozing baby, watching couples kissing and groups forming, friends calling out directions and plans. “They all did, but Adair--por Dios, up there looking like an angel.” He slapped my shoulder, tweaking the thin strap of my dress. “And you, Miss Slutty Charms, pride of Lexington.”

So maybe the dress was bright green and transparent in the sun, and maybe it was so short as to barely deserve the name, but I thought the Honeycomb Hills snapback and high-top sneakers kind of leavened the look. Anyway, Adair’s eyes popping when I’d come out of the hotel bathroom this morning was the whole point. I hefted Mari up, patting her back as she mumbled something. “That’s Mrs. Slutty Charms to you, asshole.”

It still felt bizarre, being someone’s missus, bizarre and impossible and perfect. We were nearly a year in, me and Adair, and I was never going to be used to it. It was just one more thing kicking this year’s Pride into the stratosphere: the rock on Adair’s finger, the smile on her face now there for yet another reason. I looked at her again, across the crowd, still on the stage with her chorus. She’d come meet us in a few minutes but for now I wanted nothing but to stare at her. Her long legs in that high-waist skirt, her brown belly under that bright pink crop top. She had on one of her fun prosthetics, rainbow-print plastic meeting her thigh, and a pair of lacy leather gladiator sandals. Even on a stage full of women in peacock feathers and wild hair, she glowed.

“So am I getting my daughter back any time soon?” Eddy peered at us, his disapproving dad face out in full force. “You going to add kidnapping to your long list of incorrigible activities, Felicity?”

I hmm-ed and didn’t answer. Truth be told, Mari was something to clutch right then, something to remind me that life was still going on. Eddy’s eyes softened, and he pushed us over to a bare spot on the ampitheatre’s north wall. “You ok?”

The stone felt gritty on my thighs when I sat down. “I hate being afraid.”

He didn’t say, what do you got to be afraid of?

I let Phil take Maribel off my lap. She was starting to wake up and would probably be hungry, and that was her parents’ arena, not mine. Flicking open my phone, I showed Eddy the screen. “Look at this.”

He chuckled, gray eyes skating over the picture. “Yeah. Tallis texted me earlier too. Looks like they’re all having fun, eh?”

The text had arrived sometime late in the afternoon, when our float was just pulling up in front of the arena. It was a message like a dozen others I’d gotten over the past month, pictures and captions from Pride festivals in cities all over the country. I liked seeing them--liked knowing where all my friends and colleagues were, that they were having fun, they were safe. And it wasn’t like Ben Goldfarb didn’t text me more or less endlessly anyway. Fucking up your Laurel track record, nbd or hey you ever been to the Keys? Next time you’re at GP we’ll go, pictures from the jocks’ room, Joel frowning at the camera.

It was cute, and this message was too: the two of them on the New York City High Line, Fifth Avenue’s blaring-bright parade in the distance. The two of them smiling at the same time for once--hell, you could even see Joel’s teeth--the two of them in love with each other and their world. There was a ball cap barely staying put on Ben’s curls, and sun flared on a pair of necklaces, gold and sapphires. Everything about it broke my heart.

“We don’t deserve them,” I told Eddy. “It was supposed to be better by now.”

“Felix, come on.” He showed me his own phone. “It is better.”

The text displayed was pure Tallis. She was the most joyful kid I’d ever met. She and Ben both--and Joel in his own way--and all of that, everything I knew about them, just made my eyes sting again. “You know Ben gets… and he didn’t tell me this, Canseco did. People send him death threats.”

Phil looked up from where Mari was nestled against her with a juice box. “Jesus Christ. Eddy, you never told me that.”

He shook his head. Phil had braided his hair for this weekend and it looked fantastic, tight rows against his scalp, his profile all jaw and nose. “Felix, you got to focus on what’s in front of you.” He waved his phone at me. “Let them live. They’re living, so let them. You think maybe Joel left out a detail when he told you that?”

There had been plenty of details when Joel had told me that, but I knew what Eddy meant. There was no way Ben got those kinds of emails and Joel didn’t. I’d gotten them--still did; they’d slowed down for a minute and then ticked up again when Adair and I sealed the deal. Almost always men, telling me how they’d fix me, they knew where I lived, every filthy word under the sun. Sometimes women, the hellfire types. Stuff about Adair--about my wife--that chilled my blood.

It was worse for the boys, I knew it, and for Tallis. No one had ever slapped a goddamn swastika on any of my nastygrams.

Phil touched my arm and nodded across the amphitheatre. “Adair’s about to come ask you why you’re sad.”

She was moving toward us, Phil was right, and I had about three minutes to get my shit together, because I wasn’t going to ruin tonight. None of this was news. We’d been dealing with it and we’d keep dealing with it, because the generation coming up deserved better.

Eddy leaned over, and somehow managed to get his arms around all of us. He kissed my cheek above the rainbow paint and tucked blond strands back under my hat. “You’re part of the reason they’re here at all, mija. Don’t downplay it.”

Who knew selfishness could get spun into heroics?

“I’m here,” he said, quiet, and his chest moved like he’d drawn a deep breath. “We’re all here. Todos juntos.”

We were here and we weren’t going anywhere, not out of our cities and certainly not out of our sport, and if I hadn’t managed to fix everything, maybe they would.

[snowpixie03]

Wet N' Wild Haul

Recently, I placed an order on the Wet N' Wild website then I went to Walgreen's and picked up some more stuff so this haul is all of the Wet N' Wild stuff I got this week. Some of the items are Walgreen's exclusives others are online exclusive but most are available where ever Wet N' Wild is sold so let's talk about what I got.

First, I bought online exclusive brushes. I've been wanting a new fan brush and since I already like most of the Wet N' Wild brushes and was placing an order I decided to just get this one. As I was looking at the brushes, I was intrigued with smoky liner brush so I got it since it was only $1. Again, I have liked most of the brushes I have tried so far so I just decided since I was already placing an order, I would try a couple more that I can't get in stores.

The other online exclusives I bought are the Nail polishes. So technically, the nail polishes were a part of the Holiday Collection but since you can't get these in stores anymore, I'm going to say they are online exclusive. Anyways, I got the shades R-U-Free-2 Dance? And Ninja Lovelace. R-U-Free-2 Dance? Is an iridescent purple/pink/blue shimmer polish and Ninja Lovelace is a bronze brown shade with gold and bronze shimmer. I love nail polish and I love the MegaLast line so when I saw these shades I knew I needed to order them.

I also bought 3 of the Liquid Catsuit Matte Lipsticks in the shades Rebel Rose, Give Me Mocha, and Berry Recognize. So I bought Berry Recognize at Walgreen's but I ordered Rebel Rose and Give Me Mocha from the wet n wild website because I couldn't find those shades at any of the Walgreen's where I live. Rebel Rose is a pinky mauve, Give Me Mocha is a very red toned brown, and Berry Recognize is a berry shade. In the past few months, I have hopped onto the liquid lip trend train and when I saw that Wet N' Wild was bringing these back out in a permanent line with more shades I knew was going to have to try them out. Once, I saw swatches of the shades, these three were the ones that stood out to me. I know a lot of people are curious about these so I will be doing a review on them.

In addition to the liquid lipsticks I bought one of the new Perfect Pout Gel Lip Liners in the shade Never Petal Down. These are supposed to go smoother than their regular lip liners while delivering never-ending color. These are super inexpensive and I usually really like drugstore lip liners over high end so I have high hopes for this.

The next item I bought was the MegaGlo Highlighting Powder in the shade Precious Petals. A lot of people love this highlighter including some friends of mine so I decided to just give it a try. I have been hesitant to try this because this is the lighter of the two shades and it looks like it might be too dark but I will give it a try. I wasn't planning on doing a full review of this but I will post my thoughts on this highlighter to let you guys know if I like the formula and how the shade works for us pale princesses.

Another product that I bought from Walgreen's is the MegaSlim Skinny Mascara. Some of my favorite mascaras have really skinny brushes so I'm curious to try this one and if I don't like it for my top lashes maybe I will like it for my bottom lashes. I also bought the MegaSlim Skinny Tip Eyeliner. I have been slowly getting more into liquid liners but I definitely prefer a skinnier tip on my eyeliners so I'm really hopeful that this is going to work for me. I don't really plan on posting a full review on either of these products but I was going to post my thoughts on them as I use them.

The next and last three products I bought are Walgreen's exclusives. These items are a part of the new Mega Cushion line and I bought one of the Mega Cushion Soft Matte Lip Creams in the shade Melon It Like It Is, the Mega Cushion Contour in Café Au Slay, and the Mega Cushion Highlight in Who's That Pearl (As far as I know, the contour and highlight only come in those shades but since they have names on them I figured I'd better say what they are). Honestly, I'm not really sure why I bought one of the Soft Matte Lip Creams in general because I'm not really a fan of matte lip creams but I really don't know why I bought this shade because It looks pretty orangey and on me orangey lips aren't too flattering. In regards to the cushion Contour and Highlight, I've seen cushion foundations and blushes but I haven't really seen contour and highlight so I was curious as to how well they might work. I did already open these just to see what the shades looked like and I think the contour might be too warm for me to contour with but I might be able to use it as a bronzer but the highlight shade is beautiful. It's a pearly white with a touch of pink that I think will look beautiful on my skin tone. I haven't decided if I'm going to just post my thoughts on these or do a full review so if you guys have a preference let me know.

That is it for this haul, next up will my review of the L'Oréal Lip Paints and my Ipsy Glam Bag should be arriving soon so I will also share what I got in that so until my post.

Later weirdos,

Snow

[tlk4dawnofanewera]

The Lion King 4: Dawn of a New Era Chapter 2

Petition to give Forgotten Disney More Love: https://www.change.org/p/give-forgotten-disney-more-love

Chapter 2

The rain had let up, leaving The Pride Lands covered in fresh dew and puddles of water. The sun was once again shining brightly in the sky. The animals went along their usual way. There was still a mist of grief in the air.

Kiara stood at the border of The Pride Lands with Kion and Rani.

"Have a safe trip back." Kiara said, nuzzling her younger brother.

"We will." Kion said. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

Kiara let out a small, dry laugh. "I … I think I'll be okay … thanks Kion …"

Kion turned to Rani. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah ..." Rani groaned slightly, folding her ears back a bit.

Kion frowned. "What's wrong, Rani?"

"N … nothing … I'm fine,I'm fine!" Rani tried to reassure, forcing a rather pained looking smile.

Kion wasn't sure and went over to his mate's side. "You're not hurt are you?" He asked, worriedly, checking her over for any injuries.

Rani rolled her eyes slightly . "No Kion, I said I'm f … Ow!" She stumbled to the ground.

"Rani!" Kion and Kiara shouted. Kiara rushed over to Rani's side, putting her paw gently on her back.

"Kion …" She said through gritted teeth. "... Kiara …."

"Please, tell me what's wrong!" Kion was nearly begging at this point.

"My stomach …" She winced. "I … I've got a really bad cramp … Ow!"

"Can you get up?" Kiara asked, trying to keep her voice level.

"I … I can try …" Rani rolled onto her stomach and staggered up. "If … if I can just make it ... to the ... Tree ... of Life … I'll be … fine …"

As she took a step towards Kion, her legs wobbled and shook. "... I can … make it ..."

Rani took another step and stumbled to the ground.

"Rani!" Kion crouched beside her. "... You can't make it to The Tree of Life like this … you need help now!"

He turned to his sister. "Kiara! Get Rafiki!"

"R ... right!" Kiara breathed out anxiously. She ran towards the direction of Rafiki's tree, trying to keep herself calm.

You can do this Kiara … You can do this! Keep calm! Keep calm! This is your first big task as queen ...You can't let it get to you! You have to stay calm! You're the queen now, you can't let fear stop you ... You need to be there for your Pride! Right now you need to be there for Rani and Kion … your family!

Kiara breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Rafiki's tree in the distance.

Sitting on one of the large branches, Rafiki was adding a fresh coat of paint to Kiara's portrait, highlighting it in various shades of blue and gold.

Rafiki looked up to the sky. "Oh Simba, your daughter is going to make The Pride Lands proud! The ceremony yesterday went very well. The Pride seems ready to accept Kiara as their queen."

He stuck his thumb into a darker shade of paint and touched up the mane on Kovu's drawing. "She and Kovu will usher in a new era of peace and prosperity in the pride, I just know it."

A small breeze passed by as Simba acknowledged the wise mandrill's words. Groups of ants, dung beetles, and termites made their way up the branches of Rafiki's tree. Even when they didn't have a message for him, Rafiki was glad to have their company.

Taking some pink paint, Rafiki put a small line over Kovu's eye. "We can finally let the scars of the past heal, and we'll be even stronger than before!"

Rafiki sighed happily as he pulled back to admire his work. "I think things can only go up from here …"

A few of the bugs started to scurry around frantically, catching Rafiki's attention.

Something is wrong ...

"Rafiki!"

He looked down to see the distraught lioness, looking up at him. "Kiara?"

"Rani's hurt!"

"What happened!?" Rafiki asked.

"I … I … I don't know." Kiara said shakily. "She and Kion were about to leave and she just … collapsed!"

"Oh dear …" Rafiki sighed in worry. He hurried down the tree to Kiara's side. "Bring me to her."

Kiara nodded and took Rafiki to her brother and his mate.

Rani laid on the ground, groaning in pain, as Kion stayed beside her, grooming her fur.

"Rafiki …" Kion sighed in relief. He moved out of the way so he could examine her.

"What is wrong?" Rafiki asked gently, stroking the young lioness' face.

"My … my … my stomach …" Rani groaned.

Rafiki moved to the other side of her and put his hands on various parts of her stomach. "Tell me if any part hurts when I touch it, okay?"

"Ok … Ow!" Rani winced.

Rafiki stopped and examined the area that had caused her pain in her lower stomach. He prodded at it again.

"Ow! Stop it! That hurts!" Rani whined.

A large smile formed on Rafiki's face as he let out a joyous laugh.

"Rafiki? What's going on?" Kion asked in confusion. "Is Rani okay?"

"Oh, Rani is perfectly fine!" Rafiki said.

"But my stomach.." Rani tried to protest.

"This …" Rafiki said, grabbing her paw, and placing it where the pain was. "... is your baby ..."

"My what!?" Rani asked in shock.

"You're pregnant!" Rafiki proclaimed excitedly.

Rani tried to sit up. "Am I really pregnant."

"Yes! Congratulations, you two!" Rafiki said, pushing Kion and Rani together.

"I'm … gonna be a father?" Kion breathed out, unsure what to think. He glanced over at Rani, and saw she looked anxious as well. Kion smiled widely and nuzzled her lovingly, wanting to comfort her.. "I love you Rani."

"I love you too." She purred, relaxing into him.

Kiara bounded over to them. "Kion! Rani! That's great! I'm so happy for you!"

She nuzzled both of them, purring lovingly.

"Thanks Kiara." Kion laughed slightly.

Rani smiled before groaning again and falling back on her side. "I still can't walk though ..."

"You'll be okay in a little while." Rafiki said, helping her up again. "You may need to rest for a while."

Kion helped Rani onto his back. "Come on let's go back to Pride Rock."

"Pride Rock?" Rani asked. "I thought we were going home."

Kion shook his head. "I don't think I can carry all the way back there."

"All right.." Rani said, sounding a bit unsure.

"You're both welcome to stay as long as you want." Kiara said, going to Kion's side and helping him carry Rani back to the den of Pride Rock.

Gently they laid her down on her side on a pile of leaves.

"Thanks ..." Rani groaned, closing her eyes.

"Kion? Kiara? What's going on?" Nala asked worriedly, going over to them.

"Nothing's wrong, mom." Kion reassured her. "It's just that well … uh …"

"What?" Nala asked, frowning slightly.

"I'm pregnant …" Rani groaned out,

"You're pregnant?" Nala asked, sounding excited.

"Yeah ..." Rani huffed out in pain.

"Oh, that's great!" Nala said, leaning down to nuzzle her daughter in law. She turned to Kion and gave him a loving lick on the cheek. "I'm so happy for both of you."

"Thanks mom." Kion said, silently relieved that she didn't seem upset by this.

"Is … Is it supposed to hurt this much?" Rani asked.

"It can." Nala said. "I had the same problem when I was carrying Kiara. It got a lot easier when I was pregnant with Kion."

She looked at Kion. "Chewing on mint plant helped me with my stomach you can find some for her?"

"Right, good idea." Kion said.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Kiara asked.

"Sure." Kion said. "It'll give us time to catch up."

The two of them headed down Pride Rock together.

"How's living at The Tree of Life going?" Kiara asked as they walked through the savannah.

"It's been great!" Kion said. "Being with Rani … is amazing! I love her so much. There's like...a warmness inside me that I've never felt before...does that make sense?"

"I get what you mean." Kiara chuckled a bit. "I feel the exact same thing when I'm with Kovu."

She sniffed the air. "I think there's a patch of mint nearby."

"There it is." Kion said, grabbing a chunk of mint out of the ground, holding them firmly in his jaw.

Kiara laughed a bit at how his cheeks puffed out, while holding the mint.

Kiara grabbed some mint too and they both headed back to Pride Rock.

Rani had managed to go from laying on her side to laying on her stomach.

Kion nearly spat out the mint leaves in front of her.

"That's gross." Rani teased.

"Hey, my mouth was starting to burn." Kion laughed.

Kiara placed her pile of mint leaves in front of Rani.

Slowly, Rani leaned forward and took a huge bite of mint leaves.

"I really hope this works." Rani said, laying her head back down on the ground.

Kion laid beside her and nuzzled her close. "Are you feeling any better at all?"

"A little...laying on my stomach doesn't hurt as bad anymore …" She said. "I think I'll be fine."

She laid her head on Kion's shoulder and closed her eyes.

Kovu and Vitani entered the den.

"Hey, we heard the good news!" Kovu said excitedly.

Kion smiled. "Yeah, I'm so happy."

He leaned down and nuzzled Rani's stomach.

Vitani smiled slyly. "Hey … I'm happy for you kid."

"Thanks Vitani." Kion said a little bashfully. He didn't want any ill feelings between him and his sister in law after the whole lion guard fiasco when Kion and the others had returned to The Pride Lands. He'd accepted that she was now the lion guard, and she and her team were doing an amazing job.

"If you need anything else, just ask." Kiara said to Rani.

"Thanks … but you don't have to …" Rani groaned out.

"No really … it's no problem …" Kiara said. "We're family now after all."

"All right … Can you help me to the watering hole?" She asked. "My mouth's kinda stinging from all this mint."

Kiara laughed a bit. "No problem."

She put her head under the crook of Rani's neck and pushed up slightly, helping her stand up. Kion was by her side too, helping steady her as they headed down Pride Rock.

There were two major water holes in The Pride Lands. One was a bit farther off, near The Elephant Graveyard. Simba was insistent that Kiara and Kion never go there without an escort. (For reasons he never fully went into, he clarified that Zazu did not count as an escort in that case …. Same with Timon and Pumbaa after the whole incident that led to her meeting Kovu.)

The one Kiara commonly went to was the small watering hole by Pride Rock. It was referred to as The Royal Water Hole. however it gained its title from its location and not usability. Simba allowed all animals to use it. It was in few of Pride Rock that he'd be able to easily see if any of his cubs were in danger at the water hole … not that anyone would try to hurt them anyways …

Kiara and Kion stopped in front of The Royal Water Hole and laid her gently on the ground. Rani lapped up water quickly, and then dunked her head under the water. She shook her head around before pulling back, and swayed slightly to dry her fur.

"Ah, that felt nice …" Rani sighed in relief.

"You wanna stay here for a while?" Kion asked.

Rani nodded, idly swirling her paw in the water.

Sounds of hooves pounded on the ground, catching the three lion's attention.

A mother zebra and her daughter stopped in front of the water hole, leaning down to take a drink. The mother pulled back and started grooming her foal. Her baby looked up and nuzzled against her.

Kion smiled warmly and looked at Rani. He nuzzled against her cheek, letting out a soft purr.

Rani laughed a bit, "Someone's feeling affectionate."

"I guess I'm just thinking about how great it's going to be, to be a dad." Kion said, resting his face on hers.

Rani smiled. "Yeah … being parents is going to be great …" Her voice faltered slightly, showing her anxiety.

A family of birds fluttered by, a mother, father, and their two babies. Kion's smile deepened as he nuzzled Rani even closer.

She relaxed slightly. "I think I'm feeling good enough to go back to Pride Rock."

Kion and Kiara helped her back up. She staggered a little bit when she first got onto her paws, but she was able to steady herself.

"I can walk by myself now." Rani said. "But thanks for helping me get down here and everything."

"No problem." Kiara said. "We're family, we look out for each other.

Rani smiled slightly. "Right … family."

The trio of lions made their way back to Pride Rock, passing various other Pride Land animals on the way back.

A mother elephant was rolling in the mud along with her calf. A gazelle and her two babies were eating a fresh patch of grass. They looked up slightly when they passed by, but when they realized they weren't hunting, they relaxed and went back to their grazing.

Kion felt his heart swell in positive emotions as they passed by many other animal parents.

I never thought I'd be a parent before Kiara was …. But he couldn't be happier.

When they made it to the base of Pride Rock, Rani's legs got shaky again trying to climb. Kion helped make sure she was steady and walked up beside her.

Once they were back in the den, Rani laid down again, resting her head on her paws.

Zazu flew in and landed in front of Kiara, bowing before her. "Good morning your highness!"

Kiara felt her stomach churn slightly at her new title. She figured it would be a while before she'd get used to being called this.

"You don't need to be so formal." Kiara let out a dry laugh. "You were my babysitter before, I think we can be … well … uh … you can just call me Kiara, okay?"

"Oh yes! Of course!" Zazu said, correcting his posture.

At least that went well … Kiara relaxed a bit.

Zazu then focused his attention on Kion and Rani.

"I've heard the great news!" Zazu said, beaming with pride. "Congratulations, you two!"

"Thanks." Kion smiled.

"Yeah." A light smile pierced Rani's lips.

"Ah, I remember when you were a baby yourself." Zazu said, nestling into the top of Kion's mane. "The Pride was thrilled when you were born! I remember it like it was yesterday …" He let out a sigh of content.

"Oh you do, do you?" Rani grinned slyly. "Why don't you tell us about it?"

Kion's face flustered as he anxiously pushed his ears back. "... N .. no Rani … I … I'm sure it's not that interesting."

"Oh come on. I wanna hear what you were like as a baby." She teased.

"And I can add in some details too!" Kiara laughed.

"As can I." Nala said, a soft smile on her face as she sat beside Kion.

Kion sighed in defeat. "All right fine …. Go ahead Zazu,mom, Kiara …"

Zazu landed in front of Rani. "He was the cutest cub ..."

[gethealthy18-blog]

Switching to Clean Makeup? Here’s Where to Start.

New Post has been published on http://healingawerness.com/news/switching-to-clean-makeup-heres-where-to-start/

Switching to Clean Makeup? Here’s Where to Start.

I will be the first to admit that the clean makeup world can be overwhelming. I feel like you’re first introduced to it and then you want ALL of your products to be non-toxic! Which is totally understandable… the facts about conventional beauty really do make me want to do a complete overhaul. But might I suggest a better, less wasteful way to switch to clean makeup?

There is a strategy to switching to clean makeup, one that I’ve implemented and that has helped so many of you switch to cleaner makeup to. But first it starts with an audit…here’s how to switch to clean makeup!

How to Switch to Clean Beauty

1. Start with surface area. 

This could look different for everyone depending on how much/what makeup you wear. Which of your most used products cover the most surface area on your face? This is foundation for most people but if you aren’t a foundation gal, maybe the product that covers the most surface area for you is concealer, blush or bronzer. This is is specific to you!

I suggest this as the first step because sure, it could be great for you to switch out your mascara but if you’re obsessed with your conventional mascara, keep it for now. It covers such a small part of your face, we can start with the bigger hitters first.

2. Transition products that are running out. 

If you know you’re almost out of blush, make a mental note to buy clean next time! I love this method because it is far less wasteful than doing a full makeup kit swap. As you slowly work through your conventional products, aim to buy clean.

3. Invest in multi-use products.

If you’re tight on budget look for things that are multi-use. Lip and cheek products are a great option, as are bronzer and eyeshadow. Get creative! If you’re working with limited funds try to reach for products that offer a variety of uses.

4. Adjust your expectations.

Clean beauty has come a long way and honestly, many clean makeup brands are making products just as good as conventional, however you cannot expect a foundation made without preservatives to last as long or not experience any kind of separation. Sometimes products take a little bit of extra work or won’t last as long. That’s the price you pay for using something that is good for you.

Where to Find Clean Beauty

There are a few stores I love and trust when it comes to clean beauty.

Credo Beauty – Credo takes the cake when it comes to favorite places! I’m slightly biased because they have a store in SF that I love but I also just think they’re a great company. They have high standards for the products they carry and they have my full trust! If you’re shopping remotely, they have amazing customer service support online. They can even recommend shades for you based on other products you own and love!

AILLEA – This company started in Denver and has expanded to six locations across the country! Their product range reminds me a lot of Credo. Worth seeing if there is a store near you but like Credo they also offer online products.

Detox Market – Detox Market carries a lot of the same brands that Credo does but casts a larger net. They have more products which is awesome but also means you have to do a little research on your own.

Sephora – Yep, Sephora is upping their game when it comes to clean beauty! They carry Kosas, ILIA, RMS and Tatcha which all have my stamp of approval. I will say, they carry a lot of other brands that they consider “clean” which are actually brands that are greenwashing (*cough* Tarte *cough*).

Now before you ask me about Beautycounter, I’ll direct you to my Beautycounter review and let you decide if it’s worth the investment….hint: I don’t think it is!

Trusted Clean Makeup Brands

The world of clean beauty is rapidly growing which is amazing but also means you have to weed through the brands and products available a little bit. If you’re feeling completely overwhelmed by the options out there, I wanted to share my tested and approved clean beauty brands and products.

Vapour Beauty – I’m really impressed with this brand as a whole. Here are my top picks:

Foundation – I fell in love with this medium coverage foundation last summer. It leaves my skin with the perfect amount of coverage and a dewy glow that I’m obsessed with.

Bronzing Stick – I love this bronzer because it’s compact and perfect for on-the-go! Use on your cheeks and eyelids for a pulled together, bronzed look.

Highlighter – This highlighter leaves my skin looking glowy and dewey while still looking super natural.

ILIA – While not all of their products work for me, I’m full on obsessed with the ones that do. Here are my faves:

Tint Skin – This is a new-to-me product that I cannot get enough of! I’ve been wearing this for the past two months straight – I can’t quit it! It combines skincare with SPF with light coverage and I’m in love.

Concealer – A really solid concealer option. Similar to Vapour, it is an affordable option that is great quality and long lasting.

Color Haze – This multi-use stick has become another one of my go-to’s! I love the natural flush it adds to my cheek as blush and is also gorgeous on the lips and eyelids!

Mascara – This is one of my all-time holy grail products. If you’re scared to give up conventional mascara, get this one! Trust me.

HAN Beauty – This seems to be a lesser known clean beauty company but I have been really impressed with these two products:

Bronzer – This powdered bronzer is the first HAN product I tried and fell in love with. I can’t say enough good things about this product. It’s super long lasting, affordable and has great ingredient.

Blush – Since I loved the bronzer I had to try the blush and it’s a fave as well! I have the shade “bloom” which is a soft rose pink and gives the most refreshed, natural flush look that lasts all day long.

A few other mentions: Maya Chia, Juice Beauty, Kosas, Gressa, 100% Pure, Lily Lolo

Unsure about a product? Think Dirty, Skin Deep, and Good Guide are three apps designed to give you unbiased information about cosmetic and beauty products and can help you make more informed decisions about the safety of your products.

Like this post? Here are others you might enjoy:

Source: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheHealthyMaven/~3/a3C6FlH9kHo/

[collegewriting2]

Low-Carb Blueberry & Apple Pancake Muffins

By Ms. R

  Let me begin by saying this: I hate living low carb.

  Weeks ago, when I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes, it truly felt like the world was ending. (I know, I can be very dramatic.) It’s no secret that I love food. I LOVE FOOD. I have two degrees in language, and yet I found a way to teach an entire writing course about food. If I hadn’t been accepted to my MFA program after undergrad, the backup plan was to apply to culinary school. When I found out I was pregnant I didn’t want to “eat for two” or some such nonsense– I just wanted to eat like I normally do. Unfortunately, for most of my pregnancy I had suffered from terrible, day-long “morning” sickness, and as a result there were few foods that I could eat without discomfort. That constant nausea combined with the normal dietary restrictions for pregnant women (like no raw sushi! RIP my spicy tuna roll, I miss you), made me pretty miserable. Once the morning sickness ended, I thought my diet could get back to normal and the rest of this pregnancy would be smooth sailing.

  Life, as it often does, had other plans. So I was forced to adjust to a new life with gestational diabetes: a life with less sugar and fewer potatoes and no white rice and definitely no french bread. I wasn’t a stranger to a low-carb diet since my mother is diabetic, but living with gestational diabetes gave me the chance to try cooking with some unfamiliar ingredients, namely coconut flour and almond flour, both of which function as an alternative to regular wheat flour. My first experiment with coconut flour was a pancake recipe which went horribly awry. The texture was like sawdust, and the flavor was essentially grated coconut scrambled eggs in patty form. I ate two of them, and the rest slowly molded in the fridge until I could no longer look at them. Then they went in the garbage disposal. After that disaster, I looked up other coconut flour recipes and saw that so many people had the same experience I did, which prompted me to move on to the next ingredient: almond flour.

  (Pictured: frozen blueberries, a stick of butter, greek yogurt, an apple, vanilla extract, rice wine vinegar, baking soda, raw sugar, blanched almond flour, and sea salt.)

  I was reluctant to try pancakes again. In my family, my husband is the person who cooks breakfast, and he loves pancakes. I generally tolerate them, because they are way too filling and time-consuming to make, but now that I couldn’t have them they were all I wanted. Thanks to a friend, I discovered sprouted grain bread that helped satisfy my craving for toast, but now I needed an alternative for my Sunday breakfasts so I could finally take a break from scrambled/fried/poached eggs. At one of the appointments with my high-risk OBGYN (as opposed to my regular OBGYN, because of course I needed two), the ultrasound technician mentioned the blog All Day I Dream About Food. It was a godsend, for multiple reasons. One, the blog is a wonderful resource for a variety of low-carb recipes that don’t look like cardboard, and thanks to Carolyn’s background I feel like I can trust her to be responsible about science in her recipes. Two, reading about her experiences as a diabetic after having gestational diabetes helped me put things in perspective: this might be temporary, but it might also be with me the rest of my life, and I need to stop whining so much and learn to deal with it. So I’m learning to deal with it, but the whining thing is still a work in progress.

    So I went back to pancakes. Or rather, pancake muffins because I miss muffins too. The recipe is relatively simple and quick to assemble, and it probably tastes better than it should since I decided to go with regular sugar in a smaller amount rather than use an alternative sweetener. (My blood glucose levels have been great over the past month, and I figure I can live a little as long as I avoid the maple syrup.) I had originally planned to use chopped apples and cinnamon in the recipe, since another friend used cinnamon during her pregnancy to help lower the glycemic index of her meals, but ultimately I decided to go back to blueberries. I love blueberries so much, even frozen ones, and my favorite muffins AND pancakes have blueberries. I could not resist, so I decided to use BOTH fruits and double the recipe to use what I had around the house.

    ETA: I ended up making these AFTER I had the baby, once I was no longer dealing with gestational diabetes. And the muffins did not turn out well. As you can see from the first batch in the back (which are a little underbaked), my blueberries started to melt and they colored the batter a very disgusting shade of grey, which helped to highlight the grittiness of the almond flour. I was hoping things would improve once the muffins baked, but I was left disappointed. The muffins look NOTHING like the ones on the blog, and they certainly don’t taste like pancakes.

  Still, they aren’t as terrible as the coconut flour pancakes, so I’m going to call it a win. Tomorrow, I’ll douse these with melted butter and honey, and thank every deity available that I can eat carbs again.

Low-Carb Grab-n-go Pancake Muffins

Original recipe at: http://alldayidreamaboutfood.com/2015/02/easy-grain-free-pancake-muffins.html

  Ingredients

  1 cup Greek yogurt

4 tbsp unsalted butter, melted

6 tbsp raw sugar

2 teaspoon vanilla extract

½ tsp rice wine vinegar

3 ½ cup blanched almond flour

1 tsp baking soda

½ tsp salt

6 large eggs

1 cup frozen blueberries and diced apples

  Instructions

  Preheat oven to 350F and grease muffin cups very well. I used my silicone cups, and ended up baking 2 batches of a dozen each.

Add yogurt, butter, vanilla, eggs, and vinegar to a large bowl. Add almond flour, baking soda, sugar, and salt to a medium bowl. Using a mixer, blend wet ingredients together for 5 minutes.

Add dry ingredients to the bowl of wet ingredients a spoonful at a time and blend until incorporated.

Add the fruit to the batter and stir in by hand (do not blend!). Divide batter among prepared muffin cups.

Bake 30 to 35 minutes, until slightly golden brown and a tester inserted in the center comes out clean. Remove and let cool in pan for a few minutes, then transfer to a towel to cool completely.